2 comments/ 16189 views/ 3 favorites Black on Black Pegging By: Samuelx Give me that ass, fool. And don't you dare fucking hold back. Those were the words on my mind as I slammed my dildo deep inside Stephan LaPierre. The big and tall young Black man of Haitian descent groaned as I fucked him in the ass with my thick strap-on dildo. My name is Melanie Saint-Preux. A young Black woman living in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. I was born and raised in a middle-class Haitian neighbourhood north of the City of Montreal, Province of Quebec. These days I attend Carleton University in the town of Nepean, and I am one freaky bitch. Just ask my man Stephan here. As soon as I get home, I like to go over to the man I love and embrace him. I give him a deep, passionate kiss. And then we get our wicked games started. Most days I just bend him over and fuck him. And since he's my own personal bitch, he totally loves it. I knew Stephan LaPierre would be an easy mark the moment I laid eyes upon him. We met at All Nations Full Gospel Church, this African church located not too far from downtown Ottawa. Stephan is a nerdy Haitian dude and a dedicated church goer to boot. He's taking up Criminology at the University of Ottawa. My Stephan is most definitely the studious kind. He looks real nerdy with his thick glasses and shyness but I knew he was real freaky inside. Church guys are the freakiest of all. Especially in the Black church. And I knew he wouldn't be able to resist a five-foot-eleven, curvy and sexy Black mama like myself. I've got a cute face, nice tits, wide hips and a big round ass. I'm one hundred and eighty pounds of strong Haitian woman. And I like to fuck Black men in the ass with my strap-on dildo. Kind of a strange thing for a young Black woman to say, I know. However, I don't like to hide my sexual proclivities. I am a forthrightly bisexual Haitian-Canadian woman living in Ontario. Sexually speaking, I've had my fun with men and women of varying ethnicities. Last year I was living with this sexy Saudi Arabian gal named Fatima. An openly gay Saudi Arabian woman whom I met in the student center of Carleton University. We met, we hooked up and we had a lot of fun together. Fatima was really into BDSM, something I found wickedly fun. And like I said, we lived together for a time. Fatima was a lot of fun. The gal could lick my pussy like there was no tomorrow. And she loved riding my strap. We got along wonderfully, in and out of bed. Of course, nobody's perfect. Eventually I got bored. I like playing with both men and women. Something my Saudi Arabian lesbian friend couldn't possibly stomach. I guess that's why we went our separate ways. After Fatima left, I set out to find the perfect sexual partner who happens to be submissive. And the perfect sexual submissive turned out to be a church-going young Black man from a deeply conservative Haitian-Canadian family. Stephan is the kind of guy who will do anything the female in his life tells him. And I like that in a man. You could say that I like it a lot. I knew we were destined to have lots of fun together. He loves a tall sister with a big body and a curvy body. And I am built like that. What he didn't know was that I am a whip-smart dominatrix. Yes, a young Black woman can be a dominatrix too. And I specialize in the sexual domination of Black males. That's why I stuffed my dildo deep into the depths of Stephan's asshole. Stephan screamed as I fucked him deep with my awesome rod of power. I smacked his ass as I fucked him with my strap-on dildo. The same way I've seen Black male porn stars smack the bottoms of the young Black women they fucked in those videos I sometimes watch online. Who's the bitch now? I berated Stephan while slamming my strap-on dildo deep into his asshole. I reached underneath him and grabbed hold of his balls. I squeezed his balls real tight. His screams changed in tune. They actually grew in pitch. Laughing, I smacked Stephan's ass some more and thrust my dildo even deeper inside of him. Sometimes I fuck Stephan's ass so hard and so deep with my ass it's almost as if I'm trying to convert his asshole from a tight end to a fucking wide receiver. The funny thing is that Stephan plays football for the University of Ottawa. If only his macho buddies from the university football team could see him now! I smacked his hard real hard and was rewarded by a nice squeal. Fucking Black men in the ass with my strap-on dildo is so much fun. I would strongly recommend it to every Black woman out there regardless of her background, occupation or sexual orientation. I think it's good for the Black woman's soul. Feeling inspired to try something new, I flipped Stephan on his back and shoved the dildo right back into his well-lubricated asshole. Now, you might be wondering why I did that. I'll get to that in a second. I wanted to look into Stephan's eyes while I happily sodomized him with my strap-on dildo. I looked deep into Stephan's eyes and saw the look of surrender in there. Every true dominatrix knows that look when they see it in the eyes of a true submissive. The moment when they completely give themselves over to you. The first time I saw Stephan I knew he would be mine. I thought to myself that I could definitely make something of this man. I smiled and leaned over, softly kissing Stephan on his big, sexy lips. Then I pressed a special button on my mechanized strap-on dildo. My special tool unleashed a torrent of hot, lotion-based artificial cum deep inside Stephan. My big Black stud screamed as my hot 'cum' filled his ass. I held him into his place and slammed my dildo even deeper inside of him. I wanted him to truly feel what it's like to be fucked. And he loved it so much that he begged me for more! Yeah, that's how we get down Stephan and I. And I know there are lots of Black couples like us out there. I know we're not alone. Just letting you know how freaky us Haitian women and Haitian men are behind closed doors. One of these days, I'm going to create a secret society of Black Swingers to get down and dirty in bedrooms across North America. I'm sure there are secret clubs like that out there but I want it to be a Haitian swinger thing. What do you think? A club featuring dominant Haitian women with strap-on dildos and the Black men who love them? Yeah, it would be awesome. Black On Black Pegging 4 Couples Look, I know what people are going to say. They're going to say that I'm deluded. However, I see myself as a thinking woman with a proactive approach to life's problems. My name is Shamika Dawson. At five-foot-seven and one hundred and eighty pounds of curvy, jet-Black, busty and big-bottomed Black womanhood, I think I'm alright. This story's feisty heroine was born and raised in the City of Detroit, Michigan. The life of an African-American woman is seldom easy, and in this recession the fight for survival has gotten tougher. I recently graduated from University of Detroit Mercy with a bachelor's degree in Criminal Justice. My next stop will be Wayne State University's School of Law. I want to become a lawyer someday and make my mark upon the world. Like many of my sisters, I ponder the dilemma of the supposedly undereducated Black male and what it means to me as a heterosexual Black woman who happens to be fond of the chocolate brothers. A lot of the sisters at the University of Detroit Mercy are dating White men, and that's fine by me. I just don't think it's for me. In my experience with White men, they feel threatened by anyone who doesn't look like them and happens to have a mind of their own. And they're far more violent than Black men could ever be, no matter what the criminologists tell you. The City of Detroit is a very violent place and we see all kinds around here. There's been racial clashes between gangs of Latino guys and Black men here. And yes, even in this predominantly African-American metropolis, there are White supremacists and skinheads. My neighbor Nancy Chang was a beautiful Asian-American woman whose family moved to the Bagley neighborhood of Detroit from the region of Shanghai, China, a while back. Interestingly, although she barely looked a shade darker than the average Chinese woman, Nancy was biracial. Born to an African-American father and a Chinese mother. Her father was in the U.S. Army back in the day and met her mother while visiting the region of Shanghai, China. How cool is that? I knew Nancy at University of Detroit Mercy. I was a bridesmaid at her wedding to Todd Sands, a handsome Irish-American lawyer from Boston, Massachusetts. They seemed like a perfect couple. Nancy was studying for her doctorates in civil engineering at University of Detroit Mercy and she had a high-paying job as a contractor with City Hall. During the recession, Todd Sands lost his job. That put a big strain on their marriage, especially since Nancy became the sole breadwinner. After six months without a job, Todd Sands came home one night and shot Nancy before turning the gun on himself. I was shocked, to tell you the truth. Nancy had scores of African-American lady friends at the University of Detroit Mercy. She wasn't like some of the other Chinese people I knew in Detroit. They seemed to worship White folks and despise Black people. At Nancy's funeral, I saw several of my African-American female classmates with their White boyfriends. My sisters were quite emotional but their men just stood there, looking bored, annoyed or simply emotionless. White men. So many of my sisters see them as knights in shining armor. They seem perfect. Until they kill you. Small wonder they make up ninety nine point nine percent of all serial killers. Give me a Black man any day, with all of his infuriating flaws. At least he won't kill me in the middle of the night. If he tires of me, he'll just leave. The death of Nancy shook me hard, but it also made me realize how short and precious life really is. A few months ago, I was really envious of Nancy. She was finally getting her doctorate's in civil engineering from the University of Detroit Mercy. And she had a husband who practiced law. How lucky she seemed in my eyes. This lovely young woman born of an African-American father and Chinese mother. My vivacious sister-friend. Gone forever because of a murderous, egotistical White male who couldn't stand the fact that his minority wife was the breadwinner while he was laid off. Talk about having a fragile ego. What a loser! I vowed to always be careful with who I let into my life. I didn't want to end up like Nancy. Yeah, I was armed with a bachelor's degree in Criminal Justice from the University of Detroit Mercy. That's all fine and good. What's a sister to do with that during the worst recession to hit America since Hoover? These days, even White people have trouble finding jobs. You really think the lily-White leaders of the business world are going to hire someone who looks like me? Fat chance. I decided to take a trip, just to enliven my spirits. I went to visit my parents in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. I've only been to Canada twice. My parents, Hawthorne and Leanne Dawson recently retired. They sold their house in Detroit, Michigan, and moved to Ottawa, Ontario. Apparently real-estate is really cheap in that region of Canada and they bought the house at a time when the U.S. dollar was still strong. My parents joined the legions of Americans living and working in Canada. They opened up a small bookstore in downtown Ottawa, staying active while enjoying their retirement. I'm so happy for them. My mom worked for the Detroit City Library for twenty six years and my father was a corrections officer with the Michigan State Department of Corrections for thirty years. If you ask me, they deserve their retirement. I was so happy to see mom and dad again. I didn't tell them that I took a job as a librarian's assistant at Wayne Community College in Detroit because I couldn't find a job in my field and Wayne State University's School of Law was so expensive that attending it was starting to look like a pipe dream. While visiting my parents, I met someone who changed my life forever. Kwame Adebomi. A six-foot-tall, good-looking young Black man built like a college football player. He came from the City of Lagos in the Republic of Nigeria, and had been in Canada for eight years at the time we met. Kwame Adebomi was a student at Carleton University's Faculty of Engineering and Design. And he was one of my parents new friends. He lived in the same neighborhood they did, and volunteered to help them with certain household chores and also to keep them company. Kwame Abebomi was an orphan. He was raised in Canada by a gay White woman named Muriel Henriksen, a friend of his parents from their school days in the United Kingdom. His biological parents, Adejola and Abejide Adebomi died during a clash between Muslims and Christians in Nigeria's coastal cities. Apparently, religion was a big problem down there. Kwame was raised Catholic and had a profound dislike of Muslims after the death of his parents. I found that quite puzzling. Like most people in the United States of America, I was somewhat wary of Muslims after the events of September 11, 2001 but I refused to put them all in the same boat. I'm sure most of them are decent, law-abiding people and it's only a few radicals among them who make the rest of them look bad. I sincerely hope I'm right on this. Kwame was a roughly handsome young Black man with a deep voice. He reminded me of the Black guy from the movie Underworld. The tough-looking werewolf who backed up the Lucien character. Kwame was cute, but I was only staying in Canada for three weeks. I refused to let anything happen between us. Which probably explains why we fell in love over only three weeks. Kwame was determined to show me the wonders of Canada. After two days in Ottawa, I was bored as hell. I hate government towns. They're so dull, boring and conservative. Kwame took me to Toronto, which was so big, beautiful and racially diverse that I forgot I was in Canada. Toronto's City Hall building looked like something out of a futuristic science fiction movie. Wow. Kwame was very patient, charming and witty as he escorted me throughout the town. He seemed to know everybody. He had Hispanic, Asian, White and Aboriginal friends. He told me he did a lot of volunteering, especially at the local AIDs clinic. I raised my eyebrows at that. Kwame proudly told me that he tested negative for his last STI test a month ago. Good to hear, though I didn't need to know all that. The last time I got laid, they were still offering cash for clunkers in the States. I'm STI-free, since I was negative last time I checked and haven't gotten fucked since. Of course, I didn't tell Kwame all that. The guy was a smooth operator who got us into the nicest restaurants. And he paid for everything with his Royal Bank of Canada credit card. He refused to let me pay for anything with my Bank of America credit card. However, when I bought him a bright red silk shirt inside a store called Bench, he accepted it. He tried it on and it was a perfect fit. I found myself amazed at how handsome Kwame was. Hot damn. If all the men look like him in Nigeria, I'm moving my ass there! After being wined and dined by Kwame for three weeks, I found myself smitten with him. However, it was time for me to go back to Detroit. I liked so many things about Kwame. Here was a tall, good-looking and educated Black man who was healthy, single and loved Black women. So what if he's Nigerian-Canadian instead of African-American? A Black man is a Black man! He was law-abiding, and good to his mama. He introduced me to Muriel, the gay White woman who raised him. She's such a nice, sweet lady. Kind of butch, too. Apparently, she's the one who thought Kwame how to play rugby. Imagine that! I'm an African-American woman falling in love with the Nigerian-born adopted son of a gay White woman from the United Kingdom living in the Capital region of Canada. Now you've heard everything! What was I to do? Kwame made things easy for me. He told me he always wanted to visit America. He'd lived in London, England, and Ottawa, Ontario, for a good portion of his life. He wanted to see America. Since July 2011 was winding down, I figured I would show him a few places in Detroit and have him back in Ottawa safe and sound in a few days. We left for Detroit, Michigan, from the Ottawa International Airport with my parents blessing. We were just friends, I told myself. Good friends traveling together. While on the plane, Kwame fell asleep on my shoulder. A fifty-something Black female flight attendant smiled at me and told me we made a cute couple. I smiled sheepishly. We were just friends. Well, I was crushing on him big-time and I knew he liked me but....oh, well. As soon as we landed in Detroit, things got complicated. Where would Kwame stay? I lived in a one-bedroom apartment complete with a kitchen, a small living room and a bathroom. I couldn't condemn Kwame to my couch. When he whipped out his Royal Bank of Canada credit card and asked me for directions to a hotel, I had to stop him. I heard myself tell him that we would share my bed. Platonically, of course. Of course. When night fell, stuff kind of happened. Um, nothing went as planned. Damn it. I did it again. First time I brought a brother to my spot I slept with him. Kwame likes to sleep completely in the nude, which wouldn't be a problem for me ( I'm not a prude) if he wasn't built like an athlete, and oh my gosh did this man had a big dick! He assured me he would be a gentleman and he slept facing away from me. I kept the light on as I read a Zane book, which did nothing to quiet my desires for his masculine flesh. Oh, and his sexy ass stared at me like a pendulum of temptation. Until finally I gave it a nice squeeze. Kwame shuddered. I froze. Did I do something wrong? When he didn't react, I continued fondling his sexy ass. Soon I was kissing his back, his shoulders and his neck. Kwame moaned and leaned into me. It soon became evident to me that this sexy man liked his ass played with. That's okay because the male ass is one of my favorite things in this world. I kissed Kwame's smooth, clean-smelling ass and gently bit it. Then I reached for his big cock and balls, fondling them. Kwame moaned but said nothing. While stroking his cock, my finger slipped into his ass. A sharp cry escaped his lips and I froze. When he didn't say anything, I continued fingering his warm and tight asshole. I just love playing with male asses. They're so smooth and sexy. Hmmm. We really got into it. I began pumping Kwame's cock with my hand while thrusting two fingers up his ass. I couldn't believe this amazingly sexy Black man was letting me play with his ass on our first time together. The harder I fucked him with my fingers, the tighter his ass got and the more he moaned. I pinched his nipples, and played with his chest hairs. Kwame looked at me with a bewildered look on his handsome face. I kissed him full and deep, sticking my tongue down his throat. Meanwhile, I shoved my fingers deeper into his ass. I was on top of him, with my tongue down his throat and my fingers in his ass. Hmm. My pussy was all wet and dying to get fucked. I did something I never did. Fuck, in the heat of the moment I grabbed Kwame's cock and aimed it at my pussy. Grimacing, he told me he didn't have a condom. I lied and told him I was on the pill. Look, I'm not crazy. I've got the morning after pill in my medicine cabinet. I'm going to take it right after we fuck. Kwame didn't totally buy what I was selling. Too bad because I'm horny. He seemed to hesitate. I forced him down, and thrust his manhood inside of me. I licked my lips as Kwame's big cock filled me up. Just like that, I started riding my man for all he was worth. Kwame tore that pussy up, folks. The Nigerian-Canadian stud slammed his thick, veiny cock up my pussy like fucking was going out of style. I rode him hard, squealing as I impaled myself on his dick. Kwame talked dirty to me, smacking my ass and pinching my tits as he fucked me. We fucked and sucked like there was no tomorrow. For the first time in my life, I got to experience what it felt like to have a man cum inside of me. And it was beautiful, man. Everything I could hope for and more. Kwame and I lay side by side, spent. I looked at that fabulous ass of his. I smiled. He cocked an eyebrow. I asked him if he wanted to try something new. Kwame was down for whatever at this point. However, when I pulled my strap-on dildo from my drawer, he gasped. I had to really sweet talk him into it. He was quite hesitant. I guess it's one thing to take fingers up your ass during oral sex and quite a different thing to get a dildo shoved up your ass. Which is what I wanted to do to him this very night. Like I said, I had to sweet talk him into it. No, taking a dildo up your ass doesn't make you gay or bisexual. Lots of heterosexual men are into it. No, I won't think any less of you for trying this. Wink. Yup, he fell for it. Finally, I had Kwame right where I wanted him. On his back, legs in the air. I greased up his ass with some hand lotion, then rubbed the business end of the dildo against his asshole. Gently, I pushed it inside of him. Kwame trembled as I penetrated him. I asked him if he was okay and he nodded. Gently, I worked my dildo inside of him. Kwame stroked his dick, which hardened as I pushed my dildo deeper into his asshole. Clearly, the macho Nigerian was enjoying himself as he got fucked in the ass by this sexy African-American sister. He seemed to be getting used to having a dildo in his ass. I began to fuck him a bit harder, just to see how much he could take. Although he gritted his teeth and refused to make a sound, I could tell he was close to breaking point as I sank the dildo deeper into his asshole. Finally, Kwame let out a deep, almost primal scream. How I loved that sound. I leaned closer and kissed him while keeping my dildo in his ass without moving it. I locked eyes with Kwame and asked him how he felt. He sighed, and his lips trembled. Gently I pulled my dildo out of his asshole. Finally free and clear, Kwame sighed in relief, then something funny and kind of awkward happened. Kwame farted right after I pulled the dildo out of his asshole. Like I said, awkward! I laughed and kissed him. After a moment, Kwame laughed it off too because it was kind of funny. I got up and went to the bathroom. I opened up the medicine cabinet and took the pill. Then I went back to bed. I snuggled up in Kwame's strong arms and we fell asleep shortly after. See? I wasn't lying. I am on the blasted pill. Yeah, I'm a naughty gal who likes to throw caution to the wind every now and then but I'm not insane. I like Kwame a lot, and I think I'll keep him with me in the United States of America. He can study at Wayne State University with me right here in Detroit. Ottawa's Carleton University is a fine school but come on, U.S. schools are much better! I am so glad I went to visit my parents in Canada. Just when I was starting to think Black love was a thing of the past, I meet the man of my dreams. Who would have thought? Black On Black Pegging 4 Lovebirds My name is George Des-Rameaux. I was born in the City of Cap-Haitien, Northern Haiti, and raised in the town of Miami, crown jewel of the State of Florida. I have a tale to tell, ladies and gentlemen. I'm ashamed to say that for most of my life, I was one of those Black guys who disrespected Black women. It all began when this cute Black gal rejected my advances in high school because she found me too nerdy. When you're a young guy, rejection stinks. Also, those Black chicks at my school could be really mean to a brother, you know? That day, I swore off Black women. I've always been smart so I decided to focus on building my body instead. I continued to excel academically but took up bodybuilding. I grew up to be a buff guy. I graduated valedictorian at my school and won an academic scholarship to one of the top schools in the State of Florida. Life was finally getting better for me. I could finally do my thing, away from my conservative parents. I got my party on, and discovered that White women were far more pleasant to be around than Black women. Along the way, I picked up a Master's degree in Business Administration from the University of Miami. At the age of twenty three, as a naturalized citizen of the United States with an MBA, I felt like I could do anything. Like so many brothers with education and potential, I went and got myself a White chick. And then I lost everything. Fresh out of the University of Miami's halls, I was hired by the Lexington Corporation. They deal in imports and exports from the U.S. to Europe, Canada along with Southeast Asia and the Middle East. Can you imagine what it's like to be a Black man, fresh out of school, making one hundred and twenty grand a year during a Recession? I mean, I know lots of White guys with degrees from schools like Princeton, Yale and Harvard who can't find work in their fields and I'm a Black man making six figures in Tallahassee, Florida. Hot damn. I was one lucky son of a bitch. I bought myself a bright red Mercedes and a nice little condominium. And I got myself one hot treat to sweeten the whole deal. What am I talking about? My very own perfect Barbie Doll, ladies and gentlemen. Genevieve Anderson. Five feet eleven inches tall, slim, with blonde hair, alabaster skin and blue eyes. She holds a bachelor's degree in liberal arts from Wellesley College in Massachusetts. However, she's dumb as a post. Doesn't matter to me because she gives killer head. What more could a brother want? I certainly didn't need the hassles that a regular relationship would bring. Genevieve performed well in the bedroom but expected me to give her money. I wired two grand a month to her account with the Bank of America. This kept her happy. I also took her to nice restaurants, movie theaters, and of course I always paid for everything. In exchange, she satisfied all of my sexual demands. If I wanted anal, she would get on all fours and open her cheeks for me. If I wanted to spank her, she was down with that. Like I said, she was perfect. When you're a young Black man who happens to be good-looking, healthy, educated and successful, you're going to attract a lot of attention. Even though the State of Florida is close to being mostly minority, with so many Hispanics, African-Americans and Asians living in it, the local White folks hold a tight rein on the politics and economy. By being successful and good at what I do without being Caucasian, I attracted a lot of negative attention from the Powers That Be. One thing you must learn about White men. They are terrified of Black men. Doesn't matter how big and strong a White guy is, he's got an instinctive fear of Black men. Put a Black guy in a building full of White guys, he's cool and doing his thing. Put a White guy in a building full of Black men, and he's stuck somewhere between terrified, enraged or ready to run. And when faced with an educated, successful Black man who happens to be their BOSS, White men are scared shitless. Like I said, I've always been a nerd. Numbers is what I'm good at. While the White guys played golf and cruised the local clubs for impressionable Chinese sluts and dumb Black women, I was always working. I didn't need to chase sluts for sex. I had Genevieve at home. My own private slut, all paid for. I soon became Vice President of the Mergers and Acquisitions Division of Lexington Incorporated. Not bad for a twenty-four-year-old Black guy, eh? I focused on the tasks at hand and strove to do the best job I could. Naturally, the White guys around me and their Asian lackeys started hating on me. I was wary of them but continued to do the best job I could. I met with the leaders of other corporations. I was always smart, charming and ruthless. I know how to cut the legs out from under my competition. You don't get to be the first Black valedictorian of a mostly White private school in Florida without being resourceful, smart and ruthless. I applied those same principles to my job as Vice President of Mergers and Acquisitions at Lexington Incorporated. The Great White Sharks at the company came after me. They were led by Brian Greenberg, a blond-haired White guy who looks like that boxer dude Rocky beat up in one of his movies. He's got a Princeton MBA and thinks he's a demigod just because he's Black and male. Oh, and he's got a Jamaican girlfriend named Stacey, even though he makes racist jokes about the minority employees at the company when he thinks nobody's around. Typical White male. Let's just say that after a round of machinations worthy of Nietzsche himself, I got Brian Greenberg fired and became the President of Mergers and Acquisitions at Lexington Incorporated. Suddenly, I was making three hundred grand a year! Of course, Greenberg refused to go down without a fight. The next time I saw him, he came into the building with a gun. Somehow, he got past security even though his access card was deactivated. Brian Greenberg shot me in the chest. I thought I was gone. I ended up in a coma for six months. When I woke up, I was a shell of my former self. I wanted to die. Of course, Brian Greenberg was dead. He was killed by the Miami Police Department shortly after fleeing the crime scene. As for me, I found myself at Miami General Hospital. Under the not so tender loving care of Nurse Angela Kagame, an African-born Nurse who was quite lovely but had stern eyes. I lay on my hospital bed, my life in shambles. Family members and co-workers came to visit, but I didn't feel better. I wanted to die. The doctors told me I might never walk again. I wanted to die. Of course, Nurse Angela Kagame, typical Black woman, got mad at me for wallowing in self-pity. She was really tough on me. This thirty-year-old African woman who described herself as 'tough as nails'. Well, you know what? Slowly but surely, she grew on me. We became friends. When I began therapy to try to regain the ability to walk, she was with me every step of the way. Exactly nine months after being shot by Greenberg, and largely thanks to Nurse Angela Kagame, I was walking again! My parents, Louis and Penelope Des-Rameaux came to pick me up at the hospital. Even though I could walk again. I was most thankful for that. I gave Nurse Angela simple hug and thanked her for helping me. The kindly and beautiful African woman nodded, and gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek before I left. I returned home and tried to put my life back together. I was no longer President of Mergers and Acquisitions. The job went to this Asian guy named Lee or something. The company offered me a Vice President position in another division and I took it because I had bills to pay. Of course, Genevieve Anderson was gone. The White bitch never visited me once at the hospital. And I found out she had maxed all eight of my credit cards while I was in convalescence. Isn't that sweet? Women! They're all the same. They use men. No, wait. They're not all the same. Nurse Angela Kagame. She's different. I went to visit her at the hospital. Of course she was happy to see me. I asked her out. She told me she didn't date patients. I told her I was perfectly healthy. She smiled and nodded. And just like that, we made a date for dinner at a nice Haitian restaurant in the Little Haiti sector of Miami. Angela Kagame showed up looking really hot in a bright red summer dress. Hot damn. I kissed her hand and I swear she blushed. Smiling, I led her inside the restaurant and introduced my African lady friend to Haitian cuisine. I got to know her a bit better. Angela was an immigrant, like me. She came from Rwanda. She'd been in the U.S. for about six years now. She was a permanent resident waiting patiently for her citizenship request to be processed. This hard-working woman sent money via Western Union every two weeks to support her younger brother James back home. Wow. I found myself filled with admiration and respect for her. And something else as well. Amazingly, I was attracted to her. Well, why not? She's around five-foot-nine, kind of plump and dark-skinned with a huge butt and a big bosom but that's okay. She wears it well. Filled with inspiration, I asked Angela to go dancing with me. We glided gracefully on the dance floor of the club while Kompa music played in the background. During that dance, I fully realized how beautiful and amazing Angela Kagame was. That's when I took her round, pretty face in my hands and kissed her. And you know what? She kissed me back! After this memorable first encounter, Angela Kagame and I became an item. We are a passionate couple, folks. This woman has a voracious appetite for everything in life, especially sex. How I love making love to her. Nothing I love more than to lie naked in bed with my lady. I love licking her sweet, hairy pussy for hours. I love to tease her clitoris with my tongue while fingering her pussy. Angela moans so softly and sweetly as I work my magic on her. She's also quite kinky. Sometimes, she sits on my face, an erotic delight for both of us. I love having her big Black ass all over my face. Angela loves going down on me. She will suck my thick, uncircumcised Black cock like there's no tomorrow. And sometimes she fingers my asshole. At first I was apprehensive about that because I'm one hundred percent straight, bro! However, Angela told me that a lot of regular guys enjoy having a woman play with their asshole. I've learned to enjoy myself while Angela slides her fingers and dildos into my asshole while going down on me. Oh, yeah. It's a lot of fun, I admit it. Lately, Angela has been fucking my ass with bigger dildos lately. Since she uses plenty of lubrication and she's really gentle with me, I don't mind. It's quite a pleasant feeling, actually. And I never would have discovered it if it wasn't for her. I love my lady. We're quite happy together. I'm doing really well at all areas of my life. Professional. Spiritual ( yes, Angela has me attending church again). Emotional. Sexual. Life is good. Nothing like a brush with death and the presence of the right woman to make a man appreciate life, I guess. Ladies and gentlemen, I love my life. And I think I've found my future wife. I'm going to put a ring on it on Christmas Eve 2011. How's that for a Christmas present for my lady? I'll let you know how it goes. Black On Black Pegging: Amen! I've been fighting this shit my whole life, man. Today is my coming out party if you will. Now, don't get it twisted. I love females, for real. I just happen to like a certain type of female. Black women rock. I love them to death. And the bossier they are the better. My name is Steve Valentine, I'm a big and tall young Black man of Haitian descent living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. Today I am proud to say that I am submissive to Black women. Something about a strong Black woman brings out the submissive in me. I've been with White girls and even a few Asian chicks but it just isn't the same. I need a Black female in my life and I want her dominant, thank you very much. They say that when you're out there looking for females they can practically smell that on you and they avoid you like the plague. When you're not looking or when you just don't care, females come to you. Brothers, this is one hundred percent true. I go to Carleton University and I hang around the library all the time. I see a lot of females go by and honestly, I was starting to wonder how come I wasn't getting any. I mean, I'm not a bad-looking dude. I am not shy when it comes to talking females so I was wondering what the fuck was going on, you know? I mean, I saw hot chicks walking around with dudes a lot worse off than I am in the face and body department. Then I realized it wasn't about that. A man's confidence attracts a female, more than money or good looks. Yup, that shit is true! When something's not working, you either give up or improvise. I was walking around the grocery store in my neighborhood the other day when I saw a cutie. A fine-looking Black chick with a cute face and a nice, round booty. She looked good in the green and Black uniform that her employer makes her wear. I smiled at her as I walked by and she smiled back. When I finished shopping, I went to the counter where she was working and flirted with her a bit as I took out my Scotia Bank debit card to pay for my purchases. Her name tag read Orillia Joseph, which was an intriguing name for sure. This broad got Haitian written all over her, and I like my Haitian females. I pointed out how unique her name was before I told her mine, and told her that if she wanted to find a better-paying job, she should holler at me. I'm a supervisor with a security company. We got locations all over Toronto, Hamilton, Ottawa and Gatineau. I make twenty dollars an hour driving around a company car, checking alarms in buildings and shit, and I collect a nice fat pay check every two weeks. Not bad for a twenty-year-old Black man living in lily-White Ottawa, eh? Now, when you give a female your number instead of taking hers, that shit isn't a good idea. Women take forever to make up their minds on anything. That's why I was kind of surprised when Orillia called me that same night, and told me that she was definitely interested, in the job and in me. Now, I met her Sunday and by Tuesday I was taking her to the nearby movie theater where we caught the movie The Butler. Now, historical flicks charged with racial issues aren't my usual thing but I had fun watching that movie. Oprah rocks and Forest Whitaker is an amazing actor, I got much respect for the two of them. After the movie, I took Orillia to a little Haitian restaurant called Island Sun and we had a good long meal. The whole thing, movie theater and meal included cost me under twenty bucks. I'm slick like that, that's why I took her to the movies on a Tuesday. During the meal, I learned a bit about Orillia. The gal was twenty four years old and studied business administration at Algonquin College. She couldn't find work in her field since Ottawa isn't big on hiring people of color for good jobs. That's why she was working as a cashier at the local grocery store. Man, that is a sad story but what the hell, I still wanted to see more of her. I found Orillia smart, sexy and interesting. I had no idea how freaky this chick really was, until I went into a porno store the next day and saw her working there. I mean, I went in and didn't notice her behind the counter and when I went to pay for my purchases and saw her there, I was speechless. Hello Steve, Orillia said with a smile. I work here part-time, she continued. I smiled and put up a brave face but inside I was nervous. I just went on a date with this chick and now she's seeing me in a porno shop. Is she going to think I'm some kind of pervert or something? Snapping her fingers impatiently, Orillia asked me if she could scan my purchases and like the genius I am I just handed them over. Orillia smiled when she saw the movies I bought. They had names like Black Men Like Strap-ons Too, Strap-on Black Bitches and Strap-on Black Ball Busters. Orillia looked at me and asked me if I liked videos featuring Black women with strap-on dildos who fucked Black men with them. I nodded. I look at all kinds of stuff, I shrugged. Smiling coyly, Orillia told me she liked my taste in videos. Let's do something fun next time, she said. I nodded and walked out of the adult video store in downtown Ottawa with a big smile on my face. Yeah, I was a happy camper! The next day, Orillia and I went out and we saw 2 Guns. Afterwards I wanted to go eat some food at an Italian spot but she whispered into my ear that she wanted me to eat her pussy instead. What do you think I said to that? I drove Orillia back to my place. I live in the east end, not far from the Saint Laurent Mall. I'm about four blocks from the grocery store where I met her. I gave her a tour of my somewhat messy apartment and offered her a drink which she declined. Instead she grabbed my hand and led me to the living room, and we got busy on my couch. Orillia spread her legs, exposing her hairy pussy. Lick me, she ordered. I nodded and got on my knees before her, licking her sweet pussy with gusto. Orillia moaned and shuddered as I slipped two fingers into her cunt and pleasured her by flicking my tongue over her clitoris. Soon I had her squirming and squealing in delight. I was hard as hell and ready to fuck. Orillia grabbed my dick and sucked it, getting me even harder. After sucking my cock and fondling my balls for a good while, Orillia caused me to cum when she flicked her tongue over my dick head. I came profusely, and it went all over her dark, pretty face. She didn't seem to mind at all, judging by how she was licking that gooey stuff. I'm not proud of what happened next, fam. After I cum, it takes me a while to get hard. Orillia was ready for me to fuck her and my Johnson wasn't working. She looked hurt and I felt humiliated. Smiling, Orillia told me that she knew just the thing to get me going. Grabbing her purse, she pulled a strap-on dildo out of it. Without taking her eyes off me she put it on. The sight of this sexy, curvy Black woman wearing a strap-on dildo got me hard as hell. I am definitely ready to fuck your pussy now, I said to Orillia while stroking my long, hard dick. Too late boo because I want to fuck you, Orillia said sternly. Then she ordered me to get on all fours and take what was coming at me. I was excited and scared at the same time as I got on all fours and spread my ass cheeks for Orillia. Call me Mistress O, she said sternly as she spread my ass cheeks and began greasing me up with lubricant. Without further ado, Mistress O pressed her strap-on dildo against my asshole. There's a mirror on the living room wall. I admired our reflections as she began fucking me. A big Black man like myself getting fucked in my ass by a sexy Black woman wielding a strap-on dildo. Mistress O began fucking me with slow but deep strokes. The more she fucked me, the harder my dick got, and I must say I loved the feel of her plastic dick in my hole. I heard myself cry out in pleasure and beg her for more. Mistress O plunged the dildo up my ass and told me that she would make me her bitch, and I loved every minute of it. After fucking my ass for a good half hour, Mistress O pulled out. I thanked her for a delightful time. She made a face and showed me the mess I made on her dildo. Clean that up, she said. I went to the washroom and cleaned up her dildo with soap and water before rinsing it with hot water and wiping it with a towel dipped in alcohol. I went back to the living room, and gave Orillia her toy back. Good lad, she said with a smirk. Spread her legs, Orillia exposed her wet cunt and told me to get to work. I grinned and rubbed my dick, then got into position. Slowly I eased my dick into her cunt. Fuck me, Orillia ordered. I looked into my gorgeous Black lady's eyes and did as I was told. I sucked on her breasts as I thrust my cock deep into her pussy. I hadn't gotten laid in over a year and I was making up for lost time. I fucked her for a good hour and had her screaming and panting. When I started to go soft on her, Orillia sucked my dick and shoved her dildo back into my ass. This time she let the dildo inside of me while I fucked her pussy. With the dildo up my ass and Orillia's pussy muscles gripping my dick I stayed hard as hell. I fucked her for a long good while, hard and fast, just the way she told me she wanted me to. Afterwards, Orillia and I lay on the floor in front of the couch, our bodies sweaty and spent. I love getting dominated by you, I told her as I kissed her hand. Orillia smiled and told me I was the first Black guy she met who liked dominant Black women. Let's stick together, she said. I nodded and kissed her. She kissed me back passionately. And that's how I met my future wife ladies and gentlemen. I've long dreamed of a loud, angry and bossy Black woman who would yell at me, beat me up, control me and totally dominate me. And now that I found her I'm totally putting a ring on it! Black On Black Pegging: Blackmail Ah, the shit people do when they think nobody's looking, now that's some fucked up stuff. Pardon my French. My name is Jasmine Altidor. I was born in the town of Cap-Haitien in the island of Haiti and raised in the province of Ontario, Canada. These days I attend Ryerson University in the City of Toronto, where I study civil engineering. Working as a security guard wasn't paying the bills so I supplemented my income by working as a stripper. My strip joint is called the Golden Slipper, and it's in downtown Toronto. I'm one of four Black females among the throngs of White women working there. Doesn't bother me none because us Black chicks are popular with the clients. We got cute bodies and hot booties. The White chicks for the most part tend to be flat in the ass department, except for the French Canadian and Brazilian women. They're alright. I don't consider myself particularly religious but sometimes I attend the All Worlds Church, a Nigerian church located in the City of Toronto. The Pastor of the church is a Nigerian guy, as are most of the congregation. There are Haitians, Jamaicans, Lebanese, Cameroonians, Brazilians, Ethiopians, Dominicans and Cubans among them now because the mostly Nigerian church has been trying to diversify. They have locations in other parts of Canada as well as several countries in the continent of Africa and the islands of the Caribbean. All Worlds Church even opened up a university somewhere in the vastness of Africa. I guess they're doing big things. I got chased out of the biggest Haitian church in Toronto so All Worlds Church has become my spiritual home. Yes, I am sinning by working as a stripper but I don't give a shit what people think. I am who I am. I do what I do because I got bills to pay. It's expensive to live in the City of Toronto. One of the biggest cities in the continent of North America. Right up there with New York and the others. It's the business capital of Canada. Home of the lame-ass Raptors. I'm more of a football gal and I support the Toronto Argonauts professional football team in the Canadian Football League. If I wasn't studying civil engineering, I'd want to do sports broadcasting. They need some color on Canadian television. For real. I'm five-foot-eleven, not skinny but not fat, but curvy where it counts. I have dark brown skin, long Black hair which I braided into neat cornrows and I also have big tits, wide hips and a big round ass. What they call a ghetto booty around these parts. Anyhow, I was working the stripper pole at work last Friday night when I noticed a familiar face among the throngs of men glaring at me and the other chicks as we did our thing. Tall and very good-looking Black guy in a business suit. Are my eyes deceiving me or is that Kelvin Wahid? Why, it was him! None other than the only son of Pastor Kline Wahid, the Nigerian-born and Oxford-educated Pastor of the All Worlds Church of Toronto, Ontario? Kelvin Wahid was considered a big wig around the All Worlds Church. Not only was he the preacher man's son, but he also had an MBA from Carleton University in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, and worked for the Royal Bank of Canada's Dominion Securities division. I'd recognize Kelvin's exotic good looks anywhere. The dude was Black, yes, but with a lot of other stuff in him. You see, his father Pastor Kline Wahid was biracial, born to a Lebanese Christian father and Nigerian mother in northern Nigeria. His family emigrated to the City of London, England, where he attended Oxford University. He worked in business and financing before going to Theology School and becoming a pastor. He married a Black woman from Ethiopia, Susan Tilahun, the future First Lady of All Worlds Church and the mother of Kelvin Wahid, enfant terrible of Toronto, Ontario. Yep, I'd recognize Kelvin Wahid's mug anywhere. There he was, standing with a couple of his buddies. They were getting a lap dance from Candy Wilds also known as Jennifer O'Shea, this blonde-haired White chick with a big ass. She's half Irish and half Brazilian. Kelvin and his buddies were so absorbed into what Candy Wilds was doing that they didn't notice me. I finished my dance, then discreetly took a few pictures of Kelvin and his pals. I got a perfect shot of Kelvin reaching for Candy's big pale ass, and I definitely got a ton of pictures of him and his buddies getting tossed out of the club by the bouncers because no man is allowed to touch the strippers in the club. Half the time, the bouncers are dating the strippers and the female bartenders or they're good friends so they love roughing up clients who try to touch the ladies. That's how we do at the Golden Slipper, ladies and gentlemen. You can look but you can't touch. As for me, I smiled to myself. Looks like I got myself another meal ticket. I guess it's true what they say. The sons and daughters of preachers tend to be the wildest of the bunch. And sonny is about to get a rude surprise from yours truly. Finding out where Kelvin Wahid worked was all too easy. The Wahid family loves to brag about what they do, what they own and where they go on vacation. Insert names like Paris, Rio De Janeiro, London, Johannesburg and Amsterdam. I went to the Royal Bank of Canada's Dominion Securities office in downtown Toronto and pretended to be dropping off a surprise for my 'boyfriend' Kelvin Wahid. The clerk I spoke to practically salivated at the sight of me and told me he'd make sure Kelvin Wahid got the message. Inside an envelope, Kelvin Wahid would see doubles of the pictures of him and his buddies in the strip club with that trashy slut Candy. Shots of them getting thrown out. And all that jazz. Inside the envelope was a cellphone number, belonging to a prepaid account. Within half an hour, I got a call from Kelvin Wahid. Frantically, he asked to know who I was. I muffled my voice, and switched it up thanks to voice acting training I had received. I sounded as masculine as Samuel L. Jackson. I told him that I was his blackmailer and he had better do what I say. Lest his family and his business associates find out what kind of freak he really was. I waited after saying this. I could hear the panic in Kelvin's voice. Dude was soft. I asked him for four grand, and told him to meet me in front of a shady warehouse in the east end. In two hours. He began protesting, saying he had work to do. I told him that if he didn't show up on time, he wouldn't have a job to worry about. That convinced him. I hung up, and smiled. This was all too easy. I showed up, and found Kelvin Wahid waiting for me. Dude was pacing near his bright red Mercedes, looking nervous as hell. I approached him with my hoodie on, along with sunglasses and a scarf pulled over my nose, almost totally masking my face. He seemed surprised that I was a woman, and demanded to know where the guy whom he spoke to was. I told him I was the guy's agent, and that the dude was watching nearby, gun in hand, so he'd better do as he was told. Kelvin basically had no poker face because he fell for this lie. He handed me two grand in cash even before I handed him the originals of the pictures. He took them, relief showing on that handsome mug of his. I felt angry. Rich guys like him get away with everything because they got money. I wanted to make Kelvin Wahid pay, and not with money. I pretended to pick up my phone and listened. I looked at him icily and told him there was a change of plans. Kelvin Wahid stared at me, shook his head and said he was getting the fuck out of there. I pointed out to a darkened window in the warehouse and told him the mastermind was watching. A shiny red light came on, from a mini camera I left upstairs. I activated the light with a switch I held in my hand. In Kelvin's panicked mind, the red light looked like a sniper's telescopic gun light thingy. Panic washed over his face once more. Smiling coldly, I told him to follow me into the warehouse unless he wanted to get shot. Kelvin Wahid did as he was told. Once inside, I put my wildest plan in motion. Looking Kelvin in the eyes, I told him to drop his trousers. Dude stared at me like I was a Martian. I clicked on a device I had in my hand, and a pre-recorded male voice came from upstairs. That loud masculine voice, straight out of a gangster movie, told Kelvin to do as he was told unless he wanted to motherfucking die. Like the soft bitch he was, Kelvin dropped his trousers. I looked at him. Preacher man's son had an average-sized dick, yet he was prancing at the club like he was the king. Whatever. I told him to get on his knees and he obeyed. I took out my strap-on dildo from my bag, and Kelvin Wahid's eyes went wide. I smacked his face, and told him to suck my plastic cock. After a brief hesitation, the preacher's son did as he was told. Dude sucked my strap-on dildo like his life depended on it. I smiled, loving the sight of a tall Black dude like him on his knees, sucking my plastic cock. I always wanted to dominate someone bigger and stronger than me. Looks like I'm getting the chance today. After Kelvin finished sucking me off, I told him to spread his ass for me. A panicked look filled his face, and he blurted out that he wasn't a faggot. I smacked his face and told him that if a guy fucks a guy, then it's gay stuff. If a woman fucks a man with a dildo, it's straight because it's sexual activity between a man and a female. That seemed to satisfy Kelvin, and he did as he was told. Dude just got on all fours and spread his ass for me like it was nothing. Hmmm. Nice and obedient, he's a good bitch. I sprayed lubricant on my dildo before pushing it against Kelvin's asshole. Holding his hips tightly, I pushed the dildo into his butt. The tall Black man squealed as I penetrated him. Yep, dude didn't scream or groan. He squealed like a bitch. I smacked his ass and began fucking him. I asked him what his little church friends would think if they could see him now. Kelvin begged me not to reveal his secrets to them. I laughed and totally owned his ass with my dildo. I dug his guts with it, pounding his ass good and hard. Dude was no anal virgin. Definitely not. His ass was too loose, even with the lubricant I used. I asked him if he'd been giving up the ass to some men or to some other bitches. He denied it, and I fucked him some more. I fucked Kelvin's ass with my strap-on dildo until he squealed, and practically passed out. Dude slumped on the floor, breathless. I pulled my dildo out of his dirty ass and whirled him around. Kelvin looked at me with surprise in those brown eyes of his. I smiled, and told him to get his shit and leave. He did just that. Took off in a screech of tires. As for me, I was four grand richer. I wouldn't have to worry about rent for a while, and I could go shopping. Yay for me. Who says crime doesn't pay? Especially blackmail, the most fun of all swindles one can pull. The next time I saw Kelvin Wahid in church, dude was walking a bit funny. I guess I fucked up his ass with my strap-on dildo. It's alright. He's a strong Black man. He'll live. As for me, I'm just a lonely, bored sister trying to get by. Lucky for me, I know how to make my own fun. Black On Black Pegging: Caribbean Why are so many Black men afraid of strap-on dildos? Seriously, my brothers, they're not a threat to your manhood. That's what I've been wondering about. My name is Monique Harrison. I'm a five-foot-nine, curvy and dark-skinned Jamaican-born Canadian bombshell living in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. I attend Carleton University, where I study Law. When I'm not in class, I'm burning up the internet as Mistress Noire, the only Black professional dominatrix operating in the Capital region of Canada. How's that for a resume? A lot of people would find me strange because of what I do ( if they knew ) but I don't care. As a masked, leather-clad dominatrix, I can have all the wicked fun that I want. Stick with me and you might learn a thing or two. Recently, I was contacted by a tall, handsome young Black man named Dylan Jean-Pierre. He contacted me on my website, described himself as a Montreal native from Quebec living in Ontario and wanted to book an encounter. I was puzzled by this guy who described himself as six feet two inches and two hundred and forty pounds of pure Black masculinity. I get contacted by a lot of submissive men and women, and over eighty percent of them are white. For some reason, Black folks simply haven't embraced the world of BDSM. I don't know why. Do they think it's nasty or perverted? Do they think it's a white thing? I don't know. Anyhow, I was thrilled to hear from Dylan Jean-Pierre and we booked an encounter for my dungeon in the City of Orleans, Ontario. Dylan followed my instructions to the letter and met me at my lovely house in the suburb of Orleans. I live on Vineyard Road and it's a lovely neighborhood. The house was purchased by my parents when they emigrated from the region of Montego Bay, Jamaica, to the City of Ottawa, Ontario, twenty years ago. These days, my parents are traveling in the Caribbean so I got the house to myself. I greeted Dylan in my shiny Black leather bustier and short Black leather skirt. Oh, and my shiny Black leather boots of course. I looked so hot. When I opened the door, a vision of masculine perfection greeted me. It was as if someone fused a male model and an NFL player together. Dylan Jean-Pierre was all that and then some. He looked mighty fine in a bright red silk shirt, Black silk pants and shiny Black boots. Dylan greeted me with a smile, and I welcomed him inside. Hot damn. This guy was genuinely making this sister's mouth water! Dylan and I sat in my living room, and we talked a bit before getting down to business. Dylan told me he found me really lovely. He apparently has a thing for tall, big-bottomed and dark-skinned Black women. Well, he came to the right place because that's me in a nutshell. We talked about the dearth of Black folks in BDSM, as well as Black people's shocking sexual conservatism when it came to kinky matters. Dylan and I agreed on a lot of things. He told me a bit about himself. He was twenty two, studying Criminology at the University of Ottawa. He was born in the City of Montreal, Province of Quebec, to immigrant parents from the City of Cap-Haitien in Northern Haiti. Dylan intrigued me. The guy was simply perfect. A sexy, educated brother who likes the kinky sisters. How did I get so lucky? Before anything, he handed me an envelope containing two hundred and forty dollars. That's my standard rate for an hour-long session involving BDSM. Dylan smiled at me and I smiled at him as I made the envelope disappear. Then I led him to the dungeon, which is what I call the basement. Once in the basement, Dylan began to undress. I fetched my tools. Rubber gloves. Lubricant. A strap-on dildo. Twin vibrators. Whips. Chains. The works. I admired Dylan as he got naked. Hmmm. The brother had a good build and he had a big dick on him too. I resisted the temptation to go over to him and suck his thick, uncircumcised Black penis. Oh, and I so wanted to taste his big hairy balls but I'm a dominatrix and not an escort. No sucking or fucking with the clients. I asked Dylan to lie down on the wooden table, and I fastened steel bindings to his wrists and legs. I asked him how he felt and he told me he felt good. I rotated the table to a standing position, and began my performance. I took out my belt, and proceeded to punish Dylan for being such a damn pretty guy. I whipped his chest, his arms, his legs and even his groin with my belt. He groaned and grunted as I whipped him. Laughing, I whipped him some more. After whipping Dylan for a good half hour, I deemed him ready for more. I donned my magnificent Black strap-on dildo. The veiny, realistic-looking one I reserved for my special clients. I put a condom on the strap-on dildo, and applied lubricant all over it. Then I flipped a switch and rotated the table to a sitting position. I went between Dylan's legs and gently pried his ass cheeks open. I looked into his eyes as I fingered then lubricated his asshole. I asked him if he was nervous. Dylan smiled and shook his head. He told me he was excited. I smiled. Excitement is always better than fear. I pressed the dildo against Dylan's ass cheeks, and gently eased it inside. And just like that, I began fucking Dylan in the ass with my strap-on dildo. I was gentle at first but he was definitely not new to this. His hole was too supple and elastic. Someone's been taking it up the ass! I asked him about that and he told me he owned several dildos. I smiled at that. Good for him! I looked into Dylan's eyes while sliding my beautiful Black dildo into the depths of his ass. The sexy young Black man groaned and grunted as I fucked him. I asked him how it felt to get fucked in the ass by a bossy Black woman. His reply was that it was the greatest feeling ever. I smiled at that. Good answer, Mr. Dylan. I continued fucking him, taking my sweet time as I explored his ass inch by inch with my strap-on dildo. I made him scream. I made him squeal. And yes I made him cum. He totally loved it. Dylan came spectacularly, his big cock spitting cum all over himself as I buried my dildo in his ass. That's when I pulled out. Dylan sighed in pleasure, and took a moment to catch his breath. It had been that intense. I smiled at him. I'm glad someone had a good time. I really enjoyed doing him with my strap. I let Dylan shower before he got back in his car and drove away. Before he left, Dylan gave me his email address and promised me he'd be back for another session. I smiled and waved him goodbye. I can't wait. It was his first time with a professional dominatrix. Truth be told, it was my first time too, in a way. My first time dominating a sexy Black man with my strap-on dildo. Had I known it would be this much fun to top a Black man, I would have sought a Black submissive a long time ago. After Dylan left, I sat on my couch and fingered my wet pussy while thinking of all the mean and sexy things we did together. I had myself a hot, quick cum thanks to that. Oh, yeah. I can't wait to see him again! Black On Black Pegging: Carleton U For months now I've been subscribed to the website, and felt mesmerized by her presence. I've been into the BDSM lifestyle for a while now, but I've never really explored it. For me, it's the world of fantasy. I watch videos online, and I've got a small collection of BDSM erotic novels on my book shelf but that's about it. My day to day life is as vanilla as they come. My name is Steve and I'm a big and tall young Black man of Haitian descent studying Criminology at Carleton University in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. I'm originally from the City of Boston, Massachusetts, and this is my second year in the Confederation of Canada. I sat in the back of my Psychology class today inside Southern Hall, one of the school's biggest auditoriums. The bearded White male professor droned on and on about the finer points of different psycho-sociological perspectives. I sat there, far away from everyone, watching erotic domination videos on my laptop. In all of these videos, the same mesmerizing Black woman was featured. Mistress Shamika Noire. Described as being six feet tall, with dark brown skin, a curvy body and a really nice ass. She looked really good in shiny Black leather. And this magnificent Black Dominatrix lives somewhere in Ontario. In the most recent update on the website, Mistress Shamika Noire was having her way with her latest male submissive. A yellow-haired, blue-eyed and pale-skinned Caucasian guy who was slim and extremely weak-looking. In the video, Mistress Shamika Noire really let him have it. First she whipped him, then she smacked him around, sat on his back and even squatted all over his face before pissing on him. Then she brought out her strap-on dildo, put the dude on all fours and fucked him in the ass. I watched the video, founding myself both turned on and reviled. Why is it that you only see submissive White men getting fucked in the ass by bossy Black women wearing strap-on dildos. There's a whole series on that sort of thing. You seldom see White women doing Black guys with strap-on dildos and you NEVER see Black women doing Black men with strap-on dildos. I guess White guys get to have all the fun. Or maybe they get to have all the pain too. The White dude in that video didn't look like he was having fun as the mean Black dominatrix lady proceeded to shove her entire fist up his ass near the end of the video. Hot damn. I didn't know a woman's fist could fit up a man's ass! You learn something new every day. I walked out of class around eight thirty five that Tuesday evening. Class only meets once a week for this Winter session. I felt tired. And I felt bored. I don't really have much of a social life these days. I meet a lot of women, I get their numbers and sometimes I go out with them. I've had my share of random sexual encounters while living in Canada's capital region. If you're looking for casual sex, Ottawa is an okay place to be. If you're looking for a quality woman, your best bet might be to look elsewhere. I've gone around with all kinds of women these past few months. Black women. White women. Asian women. East Indian women. All to my immense disappointment. It seems that if you're looking for a woman to fuck, that's easy to find in Ottawa. If you want a good woman you can have an actual relationship with, that takes time. And I'm one frustrated brother. My last relationship ended because my old girlfriend Hannah Bastien couldn't deal with my true self. I'm as complex as any human being ever born. A multidimensional man. I was born in the town of Cap-Haitien, Republic of Haiti but raised in the City of Boston, Massachusetts. I'm a Naturalized Citizen of the United States of America. Presently, I'm in Graduate School at Carleton University in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. And I'm quite possibly the loneliest cat in the City of Ottawa. Hannah, a lovely Canadian gal born in the town of Montreal, Province of Quebec, to Haitian immigrant parents, simply couldn't relate to my interests in things like BDSM and sexual adventurism. We had eight glorious months together but in the end, we split. And I found myself alone once again. I'm twenty seven years old. Isn't it about time I found the right person to share my life with? I returned to the school website and posted the optional homework assignment which my favorite French-Canadian professor assigned to us. I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling. It's ten in the evening. I don't have class till Wednesday afternoon at four. I went back to Mistress Shamika Noire's website. I filled out the form where potential new 'clients' sign up to become her submissive types. Hey, I've been curious about this stuff for ages. Why shouldn't I take the plunge? I also left my email address and cell phone number. Imagine my surprise when I got a reply mere moments later. I figured it was an automated reply but it wasn't. Lo and behold, it was Mistress Shamika Noire herself. She told me she was intrigued by my description, a big and tall Black man who's self-described as a submissive in the world of BDSM. I was thrilled, and we began chatting via email. Well into the night I stayed up talking to her. She was very interesting. Finally, she asked me when I wanted to book a session. I told her I was a student in Ottawa, and a busy one at that. Mistress Shamika Noire told me she was in the City of Ottawa. I was stunned! I booked an appointment for tomorrow around two in the afternoon. The next day, I showed up at the place where she told me to go. Merely forty five minutes before our appointment, she told me to drive to a place in the Barrhaven sector of Ottawa. A moneyed area. I knocked on the door of a lovely, pricy house, and was greeted by a tall Black woman in a bright red dress. Mistress Shamika Noire. Smiling, she ushered me inside. She led me to the living room, where she talked and took care of finances. I handed her the two hundred dollars we agreed upon for my first session. Then she led me to the basement, where the fun really began. I was nervous as hell but Mistress Shamika Noire reassured me that I was in good hands. And later, I found out how right she was. Mistress Shamika Noire, the magnificent Black Dominatrix, kept her promise to put me through hell. I got tied up, bent over and spanked. I howled as she spanked me with spiked gloves. I had my balls whacked with a paddle. I groaned as she fingered my asshole while twisting my dick this way and that with her gloved hands. I closed my eyes as she smacked my face really hard for a full two minutes, to remove the Black male arrogance out of me, that was the reason this bossy Black woman gave me. Finally, she held my face inches from her hairy, wet pussy. I could smell her womanly scent and begged her to let me lick her but she laughed and refused. She made me lie on the ground, tied up and naked, while she squatted all over my face...with her panties back on. I loved having her big butt on my face so I didn't complain. We continued with the fun and games. Mistress Shamika Noire made me suck her strap-on dildo. She laughed at me and told me she was going to fuck my ass with it. Then she put me on all fours and made good on her promise. As she spread my ass cheeks wide open and applied lube all over me, Mistress confessed that this would be her first time fucking a Black man with her strap-on dildo. As a Black woman, she was especially thrilled to do that. Then she pushed the dildo inside of me, and began fucking me. My ultimate fantasy was coming true. I was getting fucked in the ass by a dominant Black woman with a strap-on dildo. Many a Black man shared that fantasy. For me, it was now a reality. Mistress Shamika fucked me for a good while, and she got screams, tears and various fluids out of me. And when it was over, I thanked her. She smiled, kissed me on the forehead and assured my place among her Stable of Male Bitches. I'm so happy! Black On Black Pegging: Connection Right now, I'm lying naked on my bed. All five feet eleven inches and one hundred and sixty eight pounds of me. My light brown skin is glistening with sweat and my pussy is wet. The name is Kendra McIntosh in case you were wondering who this is. I was born and raised in the City of Calgary, Province of Alberta. Presently I live in the City of Houston, State of Texas. What's a Black Canadian beauty like myself doing in the Old West? Sometimes I wonder the same thing. I guess I came here for adventure, and also because of work opportunities. A lot of Canadians from the Province of Alberta are drawn to the State of Texas. Similarities in mindset and lifestyle, I guess. Alberta is my home and it's often been called the Texas of the Canadian North. Whatever. I am having fun in Houston, though. Lots of wicked fun. Let's recap for a moment. I was born in the City of Calgary, Alberta. My father Joshua McIntosh is a White guy from the town of Galway, Ireland. My mother Kenyatta Jones is a Black woman from the region of Montego Bay, Jamaica. They divorced six months before my birth, if you can believe it. I never knew my father. He considered his marriage to my mother to be a mistake. He left her and married a White lady, according to stories I heard growing up. I don't really care. I grew up in a small Black community in metropolitan Calgary. Growing up among Canadian rednecks wasn't easy for this sister. Especially since I wasn't wholly embraced by the Black community of Calgary either. Side effect of being both Black and White, I guess. It's not always cool to have the best of both worlds. Isn't that a kick in the butt? Nevertheless, I made my way through the world. I graduated from the University of Calgary with a bachelor's degree in business administration in the summer of 2010. I thought about staying to get my MBA but I received a letter from the University of Houston. I always wanted to see the State of Texas. And according to many authorities in the American higher education system, the University of Houston has the largest student body in North America. Sounds like the place for me, eh? I always wanted to live in America. We got a lot of Americans living in metropolitan Calgary, Province of Alberta. The only other town in Canada with more Americans living in it would be the City of Toronto, Ontario. My American friends in the City of Calgary encouraged me to study in Houston. According to them, it's the most racially diverse town in all of Texas. I should theoretically fit right in. Hmmm. We shall see about that, eh? At the University of Houston, I experienced a world of clashing cultures and different opportunities. I wasn't sure how the students at the University of Houston's MBA program would react to me. I stand five feet eleven inches tall. I'm solidly built, not skinny or fat. I've got a cute face, sexy lips, full hips and a big round butt. I've always considered myself biracial, something which my mother warned me would put me at odds with Black Americans, or African-Americans as they like to be called now. In the United States of America, if you're half Black you're considered Black. In Canada, they're a bit more liberal. It's okay to say you're mixed or biracial. A lot of Black people accused me of wanting to be White while I was growing up. I was raised by my Jamaican-Canadian mother and her Black family. I went to a Black church every Sunday. I got my hair done at a Black-owned beauty salon. I mainly dated Black guys, along with the occasional Hispanic guy. I'm not into White guys. Never have been. Got nothing against them. They just don't light my fire. I like some colour on my men. Chocolate is hot but caramel is okay too. Vanilla? See ya! At the University of Houston, I met a very unusual Black guy. One who would come to mean a lot to me in future years. His name is Randall Devonshire. And he's the only Black person I know who acts Whiter than me. I'm the only Black woman on the planet who listens to country music ( Faith Hill, Winona Judd, Reba and Cowboy Troy are my favorites) and also watches Hockey. I love the Calgary Flames Professional Hockey team. Imagine how I felt while living so damn close to metropolitan Dallas, home of the Dallas Stars Professional Hockey team, archenemies of my beloved Calgary Flames. Texans and Albertans got a friendly rivalry in both oil and Hockey. And we take no prisoners. I played Hockey both in high school and in university. I played on the women's Hockey team at the University of Calgary. I was even compared to Angela James, the legendary Black female Hockey player from Toronto, Ontario. I have always been odd, that's all I got to say. Imagine my surprise when I met Randall Devonshire. The son of an African father from Nigeria and a White mother from Great Britain who emigrated to the United States of America in the early 2000s. Randall Devonshire, son of Amadou Adewale and Elisabeth Devonshire. Born in the City of London, England, and raised partly in the City of Houston, Texas. Like me, he came from a divorced household. Like me, he was considered an anomaly because he grew up loving an odd type of music, classical music. He plays piano, violin and even the harp. I had to Google the harp to find out what it is. Even after living in America for almost a decade, Randall Devonshire still had a thick British accent. These days, he holds dual American/British citizenship, as does his mother Liz Devonshire. Oh, and he's on the men's swim team at the University of Houston. A Black guy who swims competitively and plays classical music instruments. Now you've seen everything. I was drawn to Randall from the moment I met him. It's not just because he was fine-looking with his light brown skin, curly Black hair and light gray eyes. I usually date really dark-skinned guys but something about this light-skinned, pale-eyed stud who embodied the best of both Africa and Europe startled me. I wanted him from the moment I met him. Unfortunately, I had competition. Randall was dating a White chick named Rachel Benson at the time. I befriended Randall and poured my energy into seducing him and destroying his relationship with Rachel. Since Rachel was a hot head and not exactly the brightest bulb on the tree, getting rid was easy. She dumped Randall, and I was there to pick up the pieces. Geez that broad was dumb. I spent a week basically putting Randall back together, and then he was MINE. Forever. Randall Devonshire and I enjoyed a passionate relationship. My guy wasn't just cultured, athletic and brilliant. The guy could really throw down in the bedroom. He would lick my pussy like pussy licking was going out of style before sticking his nine inches of thick, uncircumcised chocolate cock in me. I shudder with excitement just thinking about Randall making love to me. Especially when he would put me on all fours, spank my ass and then stick his cock into my cunt from behind. I also loved it when he would work his cock into my asshole after eating my pussy like there was no tomorrow. The guy is so naughty he makes me want to do things. He's the first and only guy I ever let stick his cock up my ass, you know. However, I had a bossy side as well and I needed to express it. Luckily, my kinky and open-minded guy was all for it. That's how I ended up tying up my sexy stud, before fucking him in the ass with my strap-on dildo. Randall was quite relaxed as I went to work on him. I stroked his cock while sliding my dildo into his asshole ever so gently. I took my sweet time because it was his first time and all. Randall looked at me as I gently penetrated him. He seemed a bit tense so I asked him to relax. Gently I leaned over and kissed his lips. At the same time I sank the dildo deeper inside of him. He groaned a little bit and I slowed down. I asked him if everything was alright. He told me yes. I worked that dildo inside of him until he screamed in pleasure and came. I drank his cum, then we shared a passionate kiss. I am a Black Canadian woman and I am proud to say that I love my African-American man! Black On Black Pegging: Fisting Right now, my boyfriend Adam Winterstone is moaning and crying like a little bitch. Why is a big and tall, macho Black man like him behaving in such a way? Simply because I've got my fist up his ass. Even with the large quantities of lubricant I've used, my fist still feels too big to fit inside his ass. At least that's what we both thought in the beginning but I've got my hand up there. Oh, yeah. I always wanted to fist a man, and tonight, I get to make my dream come true. Oh, in case you're wondering who in hell this is, my name is Ramona Wahid Adewale. And I'm the dominant bitch in this fairy tale. I've always had a thing for big Black guys like Adam Winterstone. The first time I laid eyes on him, walking around the Saint Laurent Shopping Center near downtown Ottawa like he owned the place, I just knew I had to have him. Of course, he didn't notice me because most people don't notice me. I stand five feet four inches tall and weigh a whopping one hundred and seventeen pounds. I have long black hair, light brown eyes and extremely light brown skin. A lot of people think that I'm Hispanic when they meet me but I always set them straight. I am not what they think I am. Race continues to be a complicated matter in this day and age, even though a Black man got elected President of the United States and a Black woman was once Governor-General of the Confederation of Canada. As I said before, lot of people consider me all kinds of things, depending on who's looking. Let me set the record straight on that one. I know who I am. I am biracial. My mother Michelle Wahid is Lebanese, originally from the City of Baalbek in southern tier of the Republic of Lebanon. My father Mohammed Kader Adewale is Nigerian, originally from the City of Kano in northern Nigeria. They met at the Christian Students Alliance of the University of Ottawa two decades ago, fell in love, got hitched and had little old me. Growing up the daughter of a Nigerian-born church deacon ( and later pastor ) in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, wasn't easy but I managed. They say church chicks are usually the biggest freaks and I guess that saying is true, considering who I am and all the mean and sexy things I've done. Anyhow, I met the hunky Adam Winterstone and set out to seduce him. It wasn't easy because, being a Black guy, he liked curvy women with big butts. I am short, small and skinny. I definitely wasn't his type. Still, I've never been the type to give up without a fight. I think that any woman on the planet can seduce any man. Guys are easy. All a woman needs is the right approach. Girls on the other hand are fucking complicated. I'm a woman and I admit that. I accidentally bumped into Adam, and laid the whammy on him. I've been told that I've got really pretty eyes that are almost hypnotic in their intensity. That's kind of true, considering the effect that I have on most men once our eyes meet. One look was all it took for me to draw the handsome and succulent Adam Winterstone into my web of seduction. After that initial first meeting during which I gave him my cell phone number, we began seeing each other. I learned quite a bit about the sexy chocolate stud. Adam Winterstone was born in the City of Boston, Massachusetts. I was quite surprised to hear that when he told me. We don't get a lot of African-Americans in the capital region of Canada. Most of the Americans living in Canada stay in two places, the City of Toronto or the City of Calgary. What the fuck was Adam Winterstone doing in the City of Ottawa? He told me that his father, Jonathan Winterstone, alumnus of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology's prestigious civil engineering program, got hired by a big company with holdings all over North America. He was hired to head Magna Works Incorporated's newest division in Ontario, Canada. With his father working at the Toronto office of M.W.I. Adam enrolled at the University of Toronto but didn't do so well academically so he headed to Carleton University in Ottawa instead. Cool. I was quite happy to run into this sexy African-American stud. Like everybody else who meets me, Adam thought I was Hispanic or Latino or whatever but I told him that I was of partial African descent. My pops is Nigerian and my mother is Lebanese. Well, my mama is Lebanese Maronite, if you want to be real specific about it. Adam's background was somewhat exotic as well. His father was pure African-American but his mother was half Black and half Hispanic, originally from Puerto Rico. Adam liked Black women just fine but he also had a thing for Hispanic women, which is what he initially mistook me for. Cool. The two of us got along just fine. We had similar tastes in movies, watching just about every action and science fiction movie to come out in theaters during the summer of 2012. Batman, Spiderman, Dark Shadows, Prometheus, we saw them all. Adam was pleasantly surprised to meet a gal who liked his kind of movies. And I was happy to be strolling around town with a sexy chocolate stud muffin from the United States of America. We ran into a few problems in the bedroom because Adam wasn't used to a chick as passionate and as kinky as I am. I brought him up to speed on what I liked in the bedroom. I am totally dominant in the bedroom, let's just get that out of the way. I love BDSM. I like to spank guys, and flog them with my whip. I also like to smack a guy's balls, and get some nice screams out of him. I like to bend over guys and fuck them with my strap-on dildo. But I only do that to guys who are big and strong, with a really macho look. The alpha male. At six feet two inches tall and two hundred and fifty four pounds, Adam definitely met my criteria. I just had to persuade him to give my kinks a try. The poor bastard never stood a chance once I turned on what I call my femme seduction. Which is how come I've got Adam tied up in my basement, face down and ass up. With my fist up his ass. I've been fucking his ass with my strap-on dildo for months and his ass has stretched out nicely. Tonight, I'm fisting his asshole. The big Black dude squealed and screamed as I fisted his ass. He must really like it in spite of his screaming because his cock got really hard. I leaned closer and sucked his cock while fisting his ass. This totally drove him over the edge and he came, shooting his load deep in my mouth. Shortly after, I pulled my hand out of his now gaping asshole and spat inside just like I've seen guys do to women in pornos after fucking them in the ass. I let Adam catch his breath, then asked him how he felt. He smiled and told me he wanted to do it again. I smiled wickedly. You heard the man, who am I to disagree with such an honest request? Black On Black Pegging: Football Lydia Bright smiled victoriously as she slid her strap-on dildo into Shane McKay's tight backdoor. The big and tall young Black man groaned as he experienced anal penetration at last. Lydia grinned and stroked Shane's thick rod as she continued fucking him. This was a dream come true for her. The sole Black Cheerleader at University of Calgary was strapping the captain of the school's varsity football team. How hot was that? Lydia Bright wanted Shane McKay the moment she laid eyes on him. And now she had him right where she wanted him. Naked in her bed, his sexy body covered with sweat. Lying on his back with his legs in the air, his hands tied up and with her dildo up his ass. Hell yeah! Every heterosexual woman at the University of Calgary wanted a piece of Shane McKay. And Jamaican-born Cheerleader and business management student Lydia Bright was definitely no exception. At five-foot-six and weighing only one hundred and nineteen pounds, the ebon-skinned gal with the pigtails and button nose was not what anyone considered a threat. Until they met her. Lydia was ruthless and always got what she wanted. The six-foot-two, broad-shouldered and muscular Black stud with the light brown skin, curly Black hair and icy green eyes simply melted her heart the moment she looked at him. Shane was the biracial son of Jezebel Hawthorne, an African-American mother and Mitchell McKay, an Irish-American father. The lad was born and raised in the City of Houston, Texas. He recently moved to the City of Calgary, Province of Alberta, with his father the oil prospector. It was an opportunity for them to spend time together since Shane's parents got divorced a year ago. Father and son loved Calgary, Alberta. There were a lot of Americans living in metropolitan Calgary these days. Most of them came from the Midwestern parts of the United States of America. Shane McKay stood out among the hot and sexy American men who descended upon the City of Calgary, Alberta, every year. He was tall and fine, the son of a wealthy family. Oh, and he was also the Quarterback of the University of Calgary varsity football team. Lydia Bright had her seduction all planned out. First thing she did was make sure that Shane McKay never lacked for company. There were a lot of blonde-haired and blue-eyed girls at the University of Calgary and typically they snatched the good-looking Black male students really fast. Lydia Bright was a smart sister. She wanted a good Black man to marry, and she wasn't above fighting dirty. A lot of sisters these days were turning to White guys due to their anger toward Black men and also the supposed shortage of college-educated, single Black male prospects. White guys weren't Lydia Bright's thing. She always found them dull, boring and insecure. Lydia's good friend Amanda, a Haitian gal from Montreal, Quebec, recently dated a White guy named Todd. This Todd fella acted real uncomfortable around Amanda's Black male relatives. And his eyes always shot daggers at Amanda's brother Christian, who was dating a British-born red-haired chick named Angela Pembroke. Todd's nervousness and hostility around Black males led to the demise of their relationship. Amanda was still saddened over it but Lydia saw it coming. White male insecurity was a bottomless pit of rage and anxiety over losing anything to men and women of non-White origin. Lydia Bright needed herself a good Black man, and Shane McKay looked like he would fit the bill. That's why she hung out with him every chance she got. She wanted him to know that she was the kind of chick he could count on. In spite of his popularity at the University of Calgary, the African-American football legend hadn't made too many friends. Off the field, he was painfully shy. Lydia told him more than once that he had nothing to worry about. Everybody loved him. The guy was tall, good-looking and seriously cool. He wasn't stuck up or full of himself like so many good-looking, rich guys she met around the City of Calgary, one of Canada's wealthiest towns. Shane McKay was a genuinely nice guy. The only time he was hostile was on the football field. On the gridiron he was an unstoppable force. Six feet two inches and two hundred and forty pounds of pure African-American masculinity and virility. He seemed to be everywhere at once during the University of Calgary's Dinos football team decisive victory over the University of British Columbia. Canada had a lot of fine football players but guys from the States, especially African-American guys like Shane McKay, were definitely something else. Shane's father, a tall, blond-haired and green-eyed Caucasian gentleman in his early fifties, showed up at every game. Lydia met him once after a particularly brutal game. The tall Texan hugged his son after Shane led the University of Calgary football team to an absolute victory over the University of Alberta. Lydia Bright actually got misty eyed as she watched the biracial football stud embrace his White father after his victory. What a man! After the game, Shane asked Lydia to come grab a bite with him at a nice Texas Roadhouse-style restaurant in Calgary's East End with his father. Lydia happily accepted. For three hours she sat with Shane and his dad, delighting and charming them both. Lydia told them about herself. She was born and raised in the town of Kingston, Jamaica. Her family moved to Calgary, Alberta, about a decade ago. Lydia was twenty two years old, and already in the MBA program at the University of Calgary. She was quite determined to succeed. Her father, Matthew Bright, worked as a computer technician for Bell Canada in downtown Calgary. Her mother Elisabeth Jones Bright owned Chez Lizzy, a Caribbean restaurant in Calgary's West End. Both Shane and his father were impressed with Lydia Bright. The gal had it going on in a lot of ways. When Lydia Bright finally parted from Shane and Mitchell McKay's wonderful company, both men smiled at her and took off their Stetsons. Lydia kissed Shane on the cheek, shook Mitchell's hand and went back into her old Ford before high-tailing it back to the University of Calgary campus. The next day, Shane officially asked her out. Lydia pretended to be surprised, but said yes anyway. And just like that, Calgary's only Black Cheerleader landed herself the sexy African-American football player fancied by half the women in the Province of Alberta, where football is practically a religion and hockey is considered just okay. Lydia Bright smiled to herself as she kissed Shane McKay for the first time in a crowded hallway. The guy was tall, fine, sexy and Black. Oh, and he was filthy rich too. This Jamaican sister had every reason to smile. As it turned out, Shane McKay was a gentleman in public but a freak in bed. This worked just fine for Lydia Bright because she was a sexual cyclone herself. Almost every time they got together, she would polish his cock with the blowjob of the century. Swallowing Shane's nine inches of thick, uncircumcised Black rod wasn't easy but Lydia attacked it with determination and good technique. She would suck on Shane's cock and balls until he either came, cried out for mercy or both. When he confessed to her his most forbidden sexual fantasy, she was determined to make it come true. Hence why she went to an adult store and bought a strap-on dildo, chains, handcuffs, condoms and lubricant. And then she treated Shane McKay to the most remarkable sensual experience of his life. That's how the Black football stud ended up on her bed, legs in the air as she stroked his big dick and worked her dildo into his asshole. Lydia smiled wickedly as she began poking Shane's ass with her strap-on dildo. At first he seemed a bit uncomfortable because his ass was so tight, then he got used to it. Now he was relaxing and enjoying himself. Lydia took that as a good sign and fed his hungry asshole more than half of her nine-inch dildo. Amazingly, Shane's ass took it all. Nice. They were off to a really nice start. He screamed in pleasure as she continued to gently pound his ass with her strap-on dildo. Lydia stroked Shane's member until he gasped before erupting, shooting his cum all over her. Smiling, she bent down and kissed him. Shane exhaled a sigh of relief and pleasure, before looking at her with a dumbfounded look on his handsome face. Lydia shrugged. Yeah, she got it like that! They shared a passionate kiss, then went to sleep. Black On Black Pegging: Foursome Claire Gregoire smiled to herself as she worked her strap-on dildo into the asshole of a very handsome Black man. The brother in question was none other than her best friend Nadine's husband Thomas Lemieux. The big and tall Black man groaned as the six-foot-tall, cocoa-skinned sister's dildo invaded his tight asshole. Lying on his back on the king-sized bed, he stroked his thick, uncircumcised ebony cock as his wife Nadine's best friend and former sorority sister Claire worked him over with her glistening ebony strap-on dildo. Hot damn. She was really good with that thing. Claire Gregoire wielded her strap-on dildo with passion and dexterity, and she was having her way with Thomas. And the brother could do nothing but lean back and enjoy the ride because she was running the show. Claire Gregoire took her eyes off Thomas for a moment and looked at her best friend Nadine Moines as she whipped and flogged Claire's own husband Eric Magloire. Claire smiled to herself, admiring Nadine's technique as she administered the punishment which Eric Magloire craved. Screams of pain and pleasure filled the hilltop house located in the south end of the City of Orleans, Ontario. Just another night in the lives of some Haitian swingers. Claire Magloire, born in the City of Jacmel, Republic of Haiti, and raised in the City of Calgary, Province of Alberta, met her best friend and soul-sister, City of Montreal native Nadine Moines at the University of Calgary in September 2006. They were the only Black women in the managerial accounting class freshman year. Six years later, they would be reunited in Ottawa, with their new husbands, new university degrees and new careers. Claire Gregoire worked for the Canadian Revenue Agency in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario, as a systems analyst. As for Nadine Moines, she earned her MBA from the University of Calgary and then moved to Ontario to work for the private sector. These days she worked for the Canadian Council On Social Development, a think tank located in downtown Ottawa. Running into her good friend Claire at Saint Laurent Mall a year ago had been a stroke of luck. The two women reconnected, and resumed their friendship. A lot had happened since they were bosom buddies at the University of Calgary. For starters, both of them left the Province of Alberta for the racial diversity and business opportunities found in the big cities of the Province of Ontario. They just didn't imagine they would meet their husbands there. Claire met Eric Magloire during her first weekend in Ottawa. The tall, broad-shouldered and burly brother from Laval City, Quebec, was one of the few Black males working for the Ontario Provincial Police. They hit it off, and eventually started dating. Eight months later they were married. As for Nadine, she met Thomas Lemieux at a party in the City of Gatineau, Province of Quebec. She was smitten with the tall, slender brother with the thick mustache and soulful green eyes. Born of a Haitian mother and French Canadian father, Thomas Lemieux was biracial. He grew up in Laval City, graduated from the University of Quebec in Montreal and presently teaches business administration at Algonquin College in the west end of Ottawa. What a funny, kinky and unique little family they made. Two Canadian men of Haitian descent, educated and hard-working professionals, married to two beautiful, educated and successful Haitian-Canadian women. And somehow, they discovered the Joys of Swinging together. What Thomas Lemieux and Eric Magloire didn't know when they married Nadine Moines and Claire Gregoire, respectively, is that their wives were lovers in college. Nadine and Claire used to spend their weekends together at the University of Calgary and they had all kinds of wicked fun. Claire was the one who introduced Nadine to the pleasures of BDSM. And in turn, Nadine introduced her man Thomas to it. Outwardly macho Ontario provincial cop Thomas Lemieux was a real submissive at heart. Nadine Moines was only too happy to become both his wife and his dominatrix. Eric Magloire, Claire Magloire's husband, was the one wild card. The straight-laced college professor was as nerdy as they come in spite of his good looks and he was a church-going man to boot. He was quite reluctant to indulge in the forbidden pleasures of BDSM...at first. Until Claire introduced him to her strap-on dildo and whips. The man hasn't been the same since. Getting together for a BDSM-inspired orgy at Nadine and Thomas residence in the City of Orleans had been Claire's idea. Ever since her university days, Claire had always been the ringleader. So what if she was a bit manipulative with people? She always achieved such wonderful results. Like tonight. Claire smiled to herself as she watched her best friend Nadine whipping her square peg of a hubby Eric. The professor howled in pleasure mixed with pain as Mistress Nadine squeezed his balls real hard while whipping his behind with her thick and studded ebony leather whip. Catching Eric's gaze for a moment, Claire blew him a kiss then encouraged Nadine to whip him harder. Nadine winked at Claire, and heeded her suggestions. Eric's screams changed in loudness and tune as Mistress Nadine began beating his ass harder. The contrast between the five-foot-eight, chubby and dark-skinned Nadine dominating the six-foot-three, light-skinned and pale-eyed Eric was quite thrilling to Claire's eyes. Claire thrust two fingers into her own pussy, masturbating as she watched Mistress Nadine's sexy ass gyrating while she began fucking Eric in the ass with the thick purple strap-on dildo which Claire bought for her. Eric whimpered as Mistress Nadine grabbed his hips and pounded his ass with her strap-on dildo. Claire scoffed. She should have known that Eric would whine. He'd always been the type to dish it out happily and balk at the thought of taking it. Unlike Thomas here, whose ass hungrily devoured Claire's shiny strap-on dildo. The Ontario cop was a pleasure to dominate. He took everything that Claire dished out at him without complaining too much. As a reward, she stroked his big cock and jerked him off after fucking his ass thoroughly with her strap-on dildo. He shouted in pleasure as she made him cum, and thanked her. Just like a good sub should. Claire smiled. Thomas winked at her. Chemistry is chemistry, she thought. You either have it or you don't. Across the room, Mistress Nadine was having her way with Eric. Face down and ass up, that's how she took him. Eric was howling like a madman as she plowed into his ass with her strap-on dildo. She fucked him until he begged for mercy. Laughing hysterically, Nadine flipped Eric on his back. She pulled the dildo out of his now gaping asshole and spat inside of him. Then she ordered him to clean her dildo with his tongue. Like a good slave, Eric did as he was told. He waved at his wife Claire and his good friend Thomas across the room, and they waved back. Laughing happily, the foursome went into the showers, where more wicked fun followed. That's Haitians for you. They just can't get enough of hot, sweaty and wonderfully kinky sex. Even while living in cold-ass Canada. They're heating up the Great White North like only they can. It's a Caribbean thing. Black On Black Pegging Group Real Black men don't fear strap-on sex, I told myself as I got ready for the evening's planned sexual domination activities. My name is Jacques Saint Aubin. I'm a big and tall Black man of Haitian descent living in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. I attend Carleton University, where I study civil engineering. I'm twenty six years old and happily married to Nadege Fleurimond, a beautiful, thirty-something Haitian-Canadian sister from the beautiful City of Montreal, Province of Quebec. My lady Nadege Fleurimond goes to Ottawa University, a bilingual school in the Province of Ontario. She's in the Telfer MBA program. We're both dedicated graduate students with a lot of ambition and we also love each other. Making our relationship work matters to us a great deal. However, lately things have taken a turn for the strange. You see, my wife has introduced me to swinging and these days, she's exploring her dominant side in the world of BDSM. It's not easy being me, my brothers and sisters. I met Nadege shortly after I moved to the Ontario region of the Confederation of Canada from my homeland of Cap-Haitien, Northern Haiti in the summer of 2007. Four years later, we're happily married. I'm twenty six and she's thirty one. The difference in our ages bothered her at first but I eventually convinced her that age is nothing but a number. Now she sees the light. We make for an interesting couple. I'm six-foot-two and weigh 250 pounds. I'm kind of chubby, but still good-looking. I used to play soccer a lot when I lived in the Republic of Haiti. I'm a new citizen of Canada and I find life interesting and strange in this beautiful land. Nadege Fleurimond was born and raised in the City of Montreal, Province of Quebec. Her parents emigrated from the region of L'Artibonite in the Republic of Haiti in the late 1970s. Nadege Fleurimond has never been close to her Haitian heritage and mainly dated white guys in the major cities and towns of the Province of Quebec at the time we met. However, there was an attraction she couldn't deny when she met me and she left her French boyfriend Rousseau to be with me. Tonight, my wife and I are having a swinging party in our apartment in the Nepean sector of Ottawa, Ontario. We don't live far from Baseline Station, a big meeting point for all transportation systems in Ottawa. We have a pair of guests with us. Abdullah Dahir, a young Black man I know from the University of Ottawa. Abdullah is originally from the City of Mogadishu in the Republic of Somalia. He's a former Muslim with a fairly secular, open-minded view of the world. Abdullah is six feet three inches tall and slim, with dark brown skin and curly Black hair. We're good friends him and I. As for his wife Deanna Henderson, she's something else. A graduate of Algonquin College's Police Foundations Program, she works as a Corrections Officer in downtown Ottawa. Deanna is biracial, born to a Jamaican mother and Irish father in the City of Toronto, Province of Ontario. Her parents actually opposed her marriage to Abdullah because they had negative views of Black men, especially the ones from the Muslim world. I found that to be the height of ignorance. Especially since Abdullah, a devout Muslim, actually converted to Catholicism to be with her. Luckily, Deanna didn't listen to her bigoted parents because she's got a mind of her own. She's got a beautiful body too. She's around five-foot-nine, curvy and big-bottomed, with long Black hair, light brown skin and pale green eyes. Abdullah is a lucky man! The four of us sat in the living room, sipping some wine while talking about our lives. We were really comfortable with each other. Also, we got our party on together before. However, this was the first time that we were going to try the whole female domination thing...in a group. I've gotten my ass spanked by my darling wife before, and we've even done other stuff. However, it's one thing to try that in the privacy of your own bedroom and quite another thing to try it with other people watching. Not for the first time I wondered if I was ready for this. Seriously. Nadege declared that we were ready, and both Abdullah and I nodded in agreement. We sat on the couch, watching as our wives stripped down before us. My Nadege stands five feet eleven inches tall, slender and athletic, with a muscular, toned body. And she's got curves where it counts, meaning she's got nice hips and a big round butt. The benefits of having Haitian DNA, I say. They did the strip tease thing, and shook their sexy butts in front of us. My dick hardened in my pants, which I took off. I noticed Abdullah doing the same thing. My Somali buddy stroked his long and thick Black cock, pumping it with his hand as he watched Nadege and Deanna shaking their big round butts. I found myself really turned on, especially when Nadege and Deanna donned their strap-on dildos. Nadege gestured for Abdullah to come to her while Deanna beckoned me to join her. I gulped, and did as I was told. This was the gist of tonight's activity. Husband swapping, with strap-on sex and female domination involved. Wow. It's a modern world that we live in, eh? Oh, well. Time for me to man up and take what's coming to me. I went to Deanna. Grinning, she told me she was thrilled that her best friend Nadege was okay with her topping me. I smiled and nodded. Suddenly, the lovely plump biracial woman was all business. She ordered me to get on my knees. I did as I was told, like a good submissive. Deanna ordered me to suck on her thick Black strap-on dildo and I obeyed, wrapping my lips around the cold, hard object. Deanna cooed gently and rubbed my head as I sucked her plastic cock. Nearby, I noticed my buddy Abdullah sucking on my wife Nadege's toes as he knelt before her. Nadege stroked her strap-on dildo. She appeared to be having a good time. I busily sucked on Deanna's strap-on dildo and she rewarded me by letting me taste her sweet pussy afterwards. Then she topped the hell out of me. I lay on my back with my legs in the air. Deanna stroked my eight-inch, uncircumcised dick as she thrust her dildo deep into my asshole. I groaned as she penetrated me. Hot damn. This was turning out to be a lot more fun than I thought it would be. I'm not gay or anything but I really like the feel of Deanna's dildo up my ass. The sexy biracial chick could tell I liked it. She smiled and told me to tell her how it felt. I told her it felt good, and it was the absolute truth. Nearby, I noticed that my buddy Abdullah was on all fours, face down and ass up. Nadege spread his ass cheeks and applied lubricant all over his ass. Then she began poking his ass with the strap-on dildo. The Somali dude practically squealed as my sexy Haitian wife drove her dildo up his ass. By contrast, I wasn't screaming as Deanna drilled my ass with her dildo. I really liked it, actually. The more Abdullah screamed, the harder Nadege fucked him. I knew my darling wife, my Haitian goddess, had a sadistic streak the length of Lake Erie. Holding the Somali guy's hips firmly, she thrust her strap-on dildo deep into Abdullah's ass. Man, I wish Abdullah would stop whining. Seriously. He should take it like a man! I almost told him as much, but I was too busy moaning in pleasure as Deanna filled my ass with her strap-on dildo. It seems like Deanna and I have great sexual chemistry. And we had fun together. As for Abdullah, he actually cried tears, real tears, as Nadege pulled her dildo out of the Somali stud's now gaping asshole. Nadege, mean as ever, silenced him by making him suck her dildo. Straight from his ass. Abdullah tasted his ass on Nadege's dildo, and that silenced him indeed. I smiled knowingly. Deanna pulled her dildo out of my ass, and I thanked her for a wonderful time. While Nadege and Abdullah weren't looking, we exchanged a quick kiss. I smiled at her and she smiled at me. This was fun! Afterwards, the four of us hit the showers together. Nadege and I bade Abdullah and Deanna goodnight. This was a really fun night. While Nadege grabbed a towel, Deanna winked at me and I winked at her. Man, she's really hot, open-minded and has a bigger butt than my wife. However, even among sexy Black swingers living in Ottawa, Ontario, there are rules. Getting together with Deanna without Nadege and Abdullah's consent would constitute cheating in my book. I am a lot of things, brothers and sisters, but I won't cheat on my wife. Not for all the money and sex in the world. Alright? Cool. This Haitian brother living in Canada takes his marriage vows seriously, even though I love swinging. Funny, right? I know. Black On Black Pegging: Haiti I'm not afraid, I told myself as I spread my ass cheeks for my sexy girlfriend Wendy Posse as she applied lubricant all over my aching and rather tense asshole. I grimaced as I felt the cold Aloe cream being smeared all over my anus. Wendy smiled and playfully smacked my ass. Then she pressed the strap-on dildo against my asshole and pushed it inside. This was it. The absolute moment of truth. Lying on my belly, face down and ass up, I am getting fucked in the ass by my sexy Haitian girlfriend. Hell of a birthday present, isn't it? My name is Stefan Voltaire, by the way. A big and tall young Black man living in the beautiful City of Cap-Haitien, Republic of Haiti. I was born in the City of Boston, Massachusetts, to Haitian immigrant parents. I came to the island of Haiti for the first time after the 2010 Earthquake to help with humanitarian efforts and also to reconnect with my people. I like living in my ancestral homeland of Haiti. Fascinating country, really. And I've been curious about BDSM ever since I discovered it on the internet. Apparently, there are Black folks who are into it too. Convincing my somewhat conservative and church-going girlfriend Wendy Posse to try it, now that was a struggle. At last she's making my dream come true. Wendy holds my hips tightly and slides the dildo deeper into my asshole. Hot damn. It hurts a little bit, you know? I ask Wendy to be a bit gentler. Laughing, she tells me that I can dish it out but I can't take it. This kind of infuriates me just a little bit. It's true that I've worked that eight-inch, uncircumcised dick of mine in just about every hole in my sexy Haitian girlfriend Wendy's body. One of the many things I love about her. Wendy pinches my balls as she pushes the dildo deeper inside of me and I groan sharply. I forgot to mention that Wendy's got a bit of a sadistic side to her. Like every woman, come to think of it. Wendy fucks me like that for a while, then tells me that she wants to change positions. I was feeling just fine in this position thank you very much but it's not a good idea to argue with a Black woman. Especially when she's wearing a strap-on dildo that's lodged so far up your ass that you can't tell where it ends and you begin. I acquiesce, and did as Wendy told me. Lying on my back, I looked at my beautiful sexy girlfriend as she resumed fucking me in the ass with her strap-on dildo. Standing five-foot-eleven, slim and fit, with dark brown skin and short, unruly Black hair, Wendy kind of resembles a younger version of Hollywood starlet and icon Grace Jones. And she's just as stern. Well, at least that's how my Wendy looks. Right now she's looking nothing short of magnificent. Standing over me, completely naked, her breasts swaying from side to side as she moves her hips, thrusting the strap-on dildo into me. I reach up and gently stroke her breasts. Wendy bats my hand away, and tells me that this time, she's doing the fucking and all I can do is shut up and take it. And what else could I do, really? Grimacing, Wendy stroked my cock while pushing the dildo into my asshole. And my asshole hungrily swallowed her dildo. Man, I felt her dildo stretching my ass and my ass yielded inch by inch, moment by moment. Wendy had a mischievous gleam in her eyes as she continued fucking me. While fucking my ass with her strap-on dildo, Wendy pressed a special button in it. I gasped as I felt something hot and sticky invading my asshole. I glared at Wendy, shocked. What the hell was she doing to me? I didn't sign up for this! Wendy smiled wickedly and told me that her most naughty fantasy of all time was not only to sodomize me with a strap-on dildo but to also 'cum inside of me' as well. That's why she bought a special mechanized dildo that shoots artificial cum. Apparently, this was payback for that time when I came inside of her during an anal sex experiment a while ago. Damn, that bitch! I roared with frustration mixed with pain as Wendy continued pounding my ass. I lay there, feeling the hot sticky liquid filling up my asshole. After pounding my asshole relentless for a good half hour, Wendy pulled out of me. She waved the condom-covered dildo in front of my face. Inside the condom, the dildo was shiny and black. Outside the condom, there were the remnants of a greenish liquid which had to be the artificial cum which Wendy unleashed inside of me. That bitch! I sighed, trying to catch my breath. Wendy removed the condom from the dildo, and told me to open my mouth. When I didn't obey fast enough, she pried my lips open and shoved the dildo inside. Could you believe the nerve on that bitch? I know, right. I was there and I don't believe it! Ah, the indignity of being forced to lick and suck on the very same dildo which had just been used to fuck me in the ass. I looked at Wendy reproachfully. My sexy and decidedly vicious Haitian dominatrix smiled as I reluctantly obeyed her command. Wendy rubbed my head patronizingly as I sucked the dildo. Then she ordered me to kneel before her and lick her feet. Once more, I did as I was told. Wendy smiled at me and told me that I made an excellent slave. I nodded my thanks to my dominant Haitian Goddess. Wendy helped me to my feet by offering me her hand, which I took. With a surprisingly strong grip, she pulled me to my feet. Gently, I kissed my sexy Haitian Goddess on the lips for making my fantasies come true. Grinning, Wendy told me that she was always happy to help me explore my wildest side. Black On Black Pegging: Hijabi I don't know why everybody says Muslim chicks are so submissive, man. I guess they never met Fatouma Muhammad, this Somali chick I met at the Rideau Mall in downtown Ottawa three months ago. I've got a thing for tall, dark-skinned chicks with big butts and I usually go for what I want, regardless of the consequences. I don't go after married women or women with brats, that's my only thing. Anybody else is pretty much fair game, though. I saw this fine-looking Somali chick with a majorly big ass walking around with an Arab dude and as usual, I committed the cardinal sin of booty gawking. The Arab dude didn't like my eyeballing his woman, and he walked up to me trying to start some shit. The thing about Arab guys is that they're all actually crazy, man. They're all loony tunes because of their culture and religion and they're used to being feared because of it. The only thing crazier and more dangerous than an Arab man is a Black man born and bred in the United States of America. We'll fuck you up no matter who you are or who you pray to. Don't believe me? Ask a White American male sometimes. After all, we gave them enough nightmares. Word up, son! I looked at the bozo and I told him that if he tried trash-talking to a big Black man like myself, he'd get to Heaven and get his seventy virgins sooner than he thought. I said that dead-pan, and the Arab dude started muttering in Arabic. I guess he wasn't used to Black guys talking to him like that. Sorry, Ahmed, I don't follow Islam. I'm a proud Christian. I gave him the middle finger and when he still talked trash without making a move, I walked away. The big bottomed Somali gal watched the entire interaction without saying a thing. Later, I ran into the same Somali chick at the last place I expected. I was walking through the Algonquin College library looking for a book for my police foundations progress and that's when I saw her, walking around with an Arab chick. This time, she walked up to me. She clearly remembered me from the Rideau Mall incident, and the fact that the City of Ottawa isn't that big. That's life in northern Ontario for you, ladies and gentlemen. The Somali chick asked me if I was suicidal, walking up to an Arab guy and talking trash like that. I shrugged and told her I liked to live dangerously. I introduced myself as Theodore Guerrier, Teddy to my friends. The Somali chick introduced herself as Fatouma Muhammad, born in the town of Mogadishu in Somalia, and raised in metropolitan Toronto, province of Ontario. She wondered at my accent and I told her that I was born and raised in the City of Houston, in the beautiful State of Texas. A Black man who grew up around racist, gun-toting rednecks isn't afraid of much, especially Arab guys with their backwards mentality when it comes to getting along with other religions, gender relations and pretty much anything other than being a loudmouth intolerant asshole in the desert. Fuck them, man. I didn't tell this to Fatouma Muhammad, of course. Since she's Somali and Somalis are so close to the Arab culture, I decided to play it cool. I told her that I had a lot of Muslim friends. A major fib on my part but all is fair in love and war, eh? The only Arab guy I ever met who was cool is Adam Wahid, and he's a Lebanese Christian from my neighborhood in the town of Vanier, not far from downtown Ottawa. Fatouma seemed puzzled as to why an African-American man from the State of Texas was studying at Algonquin College in the province of Ontario. I told her the truth, my Haitian-born father Elijah Guerrier got a job working for a big corporation on carling avenue in Ottawa. They're headquartered on the old Nortel site, a massive complex housing all kinds of technological innovations. My pops went to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and really knows his stuff. Me? I'm a slacker. I'm getting my police foundations diploma at Algonquin College and I'm trying to transfer to Carleton University sometime within the next few months. Fatouma seemed fascinated by me, and I can promise you that the feeling was mutual. I am exclusively into Black women, ladies and gentlemen. Let me just make that clear. A lot of brothers say that Black women are a handful and they go for white women. A lot of sisters these days have had it with Black men and they're chasing white guys. Me? I respect everybody's right to date whatever race they want, but Black women are what I prefer. It's my weakness, I guess. I have a chocolate addiction, ladies and gentlemen. Since moving to the City of Ottawa from my hometown of Houston, I have bedded Black women from a myriad places. Nigerian ladies. Ethiopian ladies. Haitian ladies. Afro-Brazilian ladies. Jamaican ladies. I've never been with a Somali woman before, though. I truly hoped that Fatouma Muhammad would be my first. I asked her for her digits and she seemed cool, giving them to me without hesitation. That's what's up, I thought to myself. I still got the magic touch with the ladies. I asked Fatouma Muhammad out, and she agreed. Three days after I got her digits, I went to see a movie with her at the Blair Cineplex in the east end of Ottawa. We had a nice time, catching the movie The Dark Knight Rises. Afterwards, we walked around the Saint Laurent Mall, checking out different stores before going upstairs to grab a quick bite at the Manchu Wok. We had fun together. I thought Fatouma and I were getting along just fine, but two days after our first date, she stopped calling. When I called her back, she told me that she wasn't feeling me because she thought we were too different. I asked her if it was because of the differences in our faiths. I'm a Christian and she's a Muslim. She laughed and told me that I couldn't handle a woman like her. I laughed, and told her to bring it. I've got to stop daring people to do shit, man. One of these days I'm going to bite off more than I can chew. As it turns out, just like all women, Fatouma Muhammad had BIG secrets, I just never thought they were as juicy as she revealed them to be. You see, the hijab-wearing, conservatively dressed Somali gal was really into BDSM. As in the whole whips and chains, handcuffs and spanking lifestyle. And she introduced me to it, after enticing me of course. That's how I found myself in Fatouma's dorm, lying naked on her bed, with my hands and feet firmly tied up. Odd position for a brother to find himself in, right? Standing over me, completely naked save for her crimson hijab, matching red bra and red panties, is a lovely Somali goddess, Fatouma Muhammad. Oh, and she's stroking a scary, shiny ebony strap-on dildo. Smiling cockily, the Somali chick told me she was going to fuck me in my black ass with her strap-on dildo. Damn, son! Fatouma raised my legs in the air and worked her well-lubricated strap-on dildo into my asshole. Now, this isn't the kind of thing I've done before but I was kind of curious. I'm not gay or bisexual or anything along those lines but, fuck it, I was turned on by the idea of a sexy black woman fucking me, a Black man, with a strap-on dildo. There, I said it. Fatouma pushed the dildo into my ass, stretching my hole. I told myself I wouldn't scream but the bitch smacked me, pinched my nipples and squeezed my balls and cock harshly. I screamed, man. I howled like a little bitch. She fucked me deep, actually plunging the dildo hard and deep into my asshole. In the end, it rocked, dude. I didn't think I'd enjoy that stuff but it felt good, once I got over the pain and the weirdness factor. Yes, I am a heterosexual Haitian-American male who got fucked in the ass by a Somali woman with a strap-on dildo. And I can admit that I liked it. If you start talking trash about me or calling me names, I'll kick your ass, you hear me? Yeah, man, that's how it all began. Fatouma Muhammad, the sexy and wonderfully kinky Somali chick embarked on a wild, tumultuous relationship with me, your average and totally cool Haitian-American stud muffin. She is not all what I expected. I always thought that Somali women were prudes walking around with their hijabs and their Koran, with sex the absolute last thing on their minds. Well, I guess I got a lot to learn about women, sexuality and culture, and that's okay because I am an open-minded brother. I didn't think I'd have fun in Ottawa because it's a boring town but Fatouma and I make our own fun. Life is good. Black On Black Pegging: Hot Date! Countless hours browsing the web for the kind of videos and images I knew I wouldn't find. No one caters to my own unique brand of kink. There simply aren't any BDSM websites out there which cater to people of African descent. My name is Jarvis Roger Mondesir. My friends call me J.R. I was born in the City of Jacmel in the Republic of Haiti, and moved with my family eleven years ago to the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. The Capital region of Canada has been our home ever since. I am twenty three years old, and recently graduated from the University of Ottawa's Telfer MBA program. I graduated in the top five percent of my class. How cool is that? Now, for most recent graduates of Colleges and Universities across North America, finding a job in your field is quite hard. We are in the last dregs of a Recession, after all. For months before graduation, I worried about becoming one of those highly educated minority guys and gals you see working at Tim Horton's restaurant even though they hold MBAs and MFAs from Canada's top schools. Thanks to one of my former professors, I was able to parlay an internship with the Canadian Revenue Agency into a full-time entry level position. Let's just say it pays to be connected. I'm now on the Board of Business Development at the downtown branch of the C.R.A. Not bad for a poor guy from Haiti, eh? Unfortunately, professional success doesn't always mean happiness in one's personal life. In fact, quite often it means just the opposite. A lot of people are always saying that if you're a good-looking, educated Black man with a good job, the sisters are going to flock to you. Hmm. I'm six-foot-one by 240 pounds. I've got a solid, muscular form acquired through many years of playing soccer at the high school and University level. I am disease-free, and live in a nice, middle-class neighborhood in the Barrhaven sector of Ottawa. I made one hundred and eleven thousand dollars last year, after taxes. I drive a bright red Mercedes. So why am I alone? I can't blame it on work. I work nine hours a day, five days a week. My weekends belong to me. I've got no excuse. I guess I'm alone because deep down, I want to be. Don't tell that to my folks, though. They are under the impression that my life is perfect. My parents, Wilson and Janine Mondesir are currently enjoying an all-expenses paid vacation in the island of Cuba, deep in the Caribbean. I gave them this little outing as a present for all the good things they've done for me ever since I could remember. Family is everything, you know? Sometimes I envy my parents. They met in Haiti, where family life is much simpler. We're a Christian household with old-fashioned values. In North America, things are much more complicated between men and women. We can't even talk to each other freely at work, even though we live in the land of freedom. My Arab friend Abu works for the Ontario Ministry of Finance and he tells me that he would never marry a Canadian woman, even though he tends to date tall, blonde-haired and blue-eyed women from the French Canadian community. I jokingly tease him about having a thing for 'Infidel women' and he sometimes gets mad about that. I think he's confused about what he wants. Abu's parents live in the City of Mecca, crown jewel of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. He's expected to return home at some point and marry a nice Saudi gal. I wish him the best of luck with his life choices. If only things were that simple for me. The Haitian community of Canada grows by leaps and bounds. We are quite numerous, for one thing. You'll see tons of us in places like Ottawa and Toronto in provincial Ontario, Montreal and Laval in provincial Quebec, Edmonton and Calgary in provincial Alberta, and even Halifax and Preston in the province of Nova Scotia. We're quite entrepreneurial, which explains our success at nearly all levels of Canadian society. In another hundred years, the Haitians will probably run Canada. I'm just kidding. Or am I? I travel frequently to Boston, my favorite town in the United States of America. Boston is the Capital of the State of Massachusetts, and the home of a sizable community of Haitian-Americans. What I love about that town is how racially diverse and progressive it is. Also, the Governor of Massachusetts is a Black man and he lives in Boston. How cool is that? Anyhow, in all my travels, I've yet to find what I want. What I want is a Black woman. But not just any Black woman. She must be beautiful, smart and understanding. And she must accept me for who and what I am. For I am more than just a tall, decent-looking brother with a government job, a nice salary and a nice car. I'm also a vulnerable human being on a quest to find a kindred spirit. A like mind. A kindred soul. A shadow self. My other half. Sorry, I used to be a poet back in the day. I guess some traces of it still remain within me even though the last time I actually wrote a poem, George W. Bush still ran the States and dear old Iggy still thought he would be Prime Minister of Canada someday. So here I am. Sitting in my living room in my house in Barrhaven. Browsing through countless spots online. Men in Pain. Divine Bitches. Vicious Vixens. And the list goes on. Sometimes, I see echoes of what I might be looking for. Black men getting fucked by women wearing strap-on dildos. Always White women and Hispanic women, never Black women. Sometimes I see Black women wearing strap-on dildos and banging White men and occasionally Hispanic men and Asian men. You'll never see a Black woman banging a Black man with a strap-on dildo on one of those so-called BDSM websites. Yeah, nobody caters to my unique fetish. I finally enter this forum where apparently minorities who are into BDSM are welcome. I log on, create a profile as BlackBro1986 and post a slightly blurry picture of myself wearing sunglasses and a business suit. I go to bed. It's Friday night and I don't feel like going out. When I wake up Saturday morning, I check out the website and amazingly, I've got a message. It's from LadyNoire117. The picture on the profile is that of a tall Black woman in a Black leather miniskirt and red tank top cracking a whip. Probably a fake. I read the message. It's a standard BDSM greeting. This "Mistress" who is probably a gay guy in disguise, claims to be interested in me. Am I collared? Do I have an owner? Her location is Orleans, Ontario. Hmmm. That's interesting. Yeah, it's probably some guy having some fun at my expense but I reply anyway that I'm not owned or collared, but I'm looking for a Mistress. Moments later, as I make breakfast, a reply comes. It's LadyNoire117. She claims to want to get to know me better. And she invites me to contact her at six one three, eight nine four, plus four other numbers I can't reveal to you. Amazingly, I pick up my cell and dial right away. My heart thunders in my chest. It's probably some guy having fun at my expense. Real women don't contact guys over the web like this. The phone rings. On the third ring someone picks up. A husky female voice answers. Hello, she says. And I almost pass out. I ask if this is LadyNoire117. The sexy female voice chuckles and says yes. I introduce myself as BlackBro1986, and we start talking. Her voice is surprisingly pleasant. She sounds like a well-read, well-spoken lady. And her questions are straight to the point. How tall am I? Six-foot-one. How much do I weigh? 240 pounds. When was my last STD test? Three months ago at the Sexual Health Center in Ottawa. I'm STD-free. LadyNoire117 chuckles and tells me she's clean as well. Am I circumcised? Hell no. I'm uncut and proud! Where do I work? I say that I'm a Canadian government employee and thus I must be discreet. What are my BDSM preferences? Anything to do with Black women and strap-on dildos. LadyNoire117 laughs and tells me she likes the sound of that. I walk to the kitchen to turn off the stove on my omelette and then sit comfortably while we keep talking. Before long, it's eleven in the morning. We started talking at nine twenty. LadyNoire117 asks me what I'm doing today. I tell that I'm free. She tells me to show up at the Saint Laurent Mall at one in the afternoon. Before I can reply, she hangs up. I ponder all this. Is this lady for real? I wonder whether or not to go. She could be a psycho killer or a cop. Or a hooker. Or some weird combo of all three. Nevertheless, I shower, shave, shit and then get dressed and drive to the Saint Laurent Mall in Ottawa's East End. At precisely one o'clock, I'm walking through the bookstore when my phone rings. It's LadyNoire117. She asks me where I am and I tell her. She laughs and tells me to go upstairs at the food court. I obey, and soon find myself among the throngs of people in the crowded 'feeding area' of the mall. I scan the crowd, looking for the mystery lady. Someone taps me on the shoulder. I turn around. A tall, beautiful young Black woman stares eyeball to eyeball at me. I blink. She smiles. LadyNoire117, I presume? I extend my hand. She shakes it. I look her up and down. Hot damn she looks good. Black leather jacket over a blue turtleneck shirt, Black jeans and boots. She looks at me, tells me I look better than she thought I would, and then we go sit down somewhere. We start talking. Just the basics, really. She's twenty five. Unmarried. A college graduate. Self-employed. How into BDSM is she? An expert. What's her preference? She's a total dominatrix and a bit of a sadist. I smile at that. Sounds good to me. I tell her a bit about me. I'm Jarvis, Haitian-Canadian, government worker and BDSM enthusiast. LadyNoire117 tells me to call her Karen, and we get coffee. She asks me if I'm married and I shake my head. I show her my ring-less hands. Karen smiles and tells me she's unmarried, but has a son. Wow. I smile. Okay. We talk for a while, and then she tells me that she's ready for me. I hesitate. Ready for what? Karen/LadyNoire117 tells me that she's got a surprise for me. With that, she takes my arm and practically pushes me out of the mall. I tell her that I'm parked upstairs but she tells me that we're not going far. There is a hotel right across from the mall and that's where she wants me to go. I feel both excited and scared. What if she's a serial killer or a cop? Lust won out over fear and I follow her. We cross the busy highway on foot and make our way to the hotel. Just as I wonder which floor we're heading to, she inserts her key into the door of a ground-level room right behind the hotel parking lot. Welcome to my spot, she says. I look at the room. It's well-lit, and contains a king-sized bed, a TV and a couple of chairs. Nice. Karen/LadyNoire117 tells me to relax, and I sit on the bed while she goes to the washroom. Moments later, LadyNoire117 comes out of the washroom. She's wearing only a bra and panties, and a shiny Black strap-on dildo. I gasp when I see it. She smiles and tells me to get undressed. I do as I am told, hastily undressing. I stand naked before her, with my erect penis in my hand. LadyNoire117 smiles and tells me I've got a good-sized dick. I smile. She tells me to get on all fours. I obey. She comes up behind me and spreads my ass cheeks wide open. With gloved fingers she probes my asshole. And then I grimace as she applies a cold liquid against my asshole. Lubricant. LadyNoire117 tells me that she's ready to fuck me. I nod, and tell her that I'm ready to get fucked. I shudder as I feel LadyNoire117's dildo push itself into my asshole. Her firm hands grip my hips as she penetrates me. I groan as she enters me. Hot damn. I'm really getting fucked in the ass by a sexy Black woman with a strap-on dildo. Yes! LadyNoire117 is gentle at first as she fucks me with the strap-on dildo. Inch by inch she works it into my ass. I stroke my cock as she fucks me. Her dildo feels good in my ass, though it hurt a bit at first. We've got a nice easy rhythm going on. LadyNoire117 fucks me just right, sliding the dildo deep into my ass and gently patting my bum as she fucks me. She flips me on my back and I look into her beautiful face as she fucks me. Hot damn. This is so beautiful. I admire our reflections in the large mirror nearby as we do our thing. A sexy Black woman fucking a well-built Black man with a strap-on dildo. Definitely not something that you see every day. I love it. And unfortunately it's over too soon as LadyNoire117 pulls out of me. I take a moment or two to recover. She asks me how I feel. I tell her it felt great. LadyNoire117 smiles. She tells me I'm the first Black guy she ever fucked with her dildo. Wow. That's cool. As I get undressed, I ask her if we can see each other again. LadyNoire117 tells me that she's flattered but after graduating from her College, her priorities are the well-being of her son and the survival of her yet unnamed small business. I tell that I find her cute, and would love to get to know her better. Even if it's on a platonic level. She hesitates. I hand her my business card, and show her my government identification card. LadyNoire117/Karen's eyes widen. I smile and tell her that I'm taking a leap of faith. I want us to be friends, or whatever. She takes a look at my ID, smiles and pockets my business card. I put my ID back in my wallet. Before leaving the room, I take her hand in mine and gently kiss it. I tell her that I'm a nice guy, and would love to see her again. In whatever capacity she decides. She laughs and playfully smacks my ass as I leave. I go back to Saint Laurent Mall, get in my car and drive away. I feel like a million bucks. When I get home, I've got several messages from LadyNoire117 waiting for me. Apparently, she requires my presence at a certain African-style restaurant in Vanier this coming Sunday afternoon. You know I'll be there! Black On Black Pegging: Hump Day I got off the number eighteen bus, and walked to the brownstone building at the edge of the park in Vanier, Ontario. I'm dressed to the nines in a bright red tank top, short Black skirt and thigh-high Black leather boots. At five-foot-nine with light brown skin, curly Black hair and pale green eyes, curves where it counts and a nice round bottom, I look pretty damn good. We're in April and it's still mad cold outside but that's okay. Got to look good for my man, you know? In case you're wondering who this is, my name is Lynnette Jeanne Crowley, and I'm a young woman of Haitian and Irish-Canadian descent living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. Today, I'm surprising the hell out of my guy, Stephen Eugene. I met Stephen while working on a paper inside the Carleton University library in the winter of 2012. He was working on a paper for his Criminology class and asked me to help him with in-text citations. We talked for a bit and eventually exchanged numbers, and afterwards we became friends. At the time, he was going out with a Somali chick named Farah Muhammad and I was dating this White dude named Stanley O'Neill. Stephen and I kept in touch, and I must admit I found myself attracted to this tall, dark and handsome stud but I had another man in my life and I'm not a ho so, there. When my relationship with Stanley ended, Stephen was there for me. Now that I think about it, Stanley and I simply weren't meant to be. I like my men just like I like my coffee, hot, strong and Black. That's what I'm into and I'm sticking to it, thank you very much. A person's origins and upbringing have a lot to do with how they see the world. Take me for example. My mother, Janice Etienne-Crowley, left the island of Haiti for the province of Nova Scotia, Canada, in 1987. A year later, at the University of Halifax she met my father, Liam Crowley, and they fell in love, got hitched and had little old me. They split three years later, and I honestly don't know what it's like to have a father because my dad is a total stranger to me. I've seen him about five or ten times in my entire life. He didn't care to be there for me and honestly, my mother didn't want him around either. She referred to him as a coward due to his refusal to stand up to his racist family on her behalf. People often tell me that I look a lot like my father. I consider that a mixed blessing, pun intended. I get my green eyes, light skin color and straight hair from him, I guess. I get my fierceness of character and my natural fearlessness from my mother. She raised me by herself because, well, daddy didn't care. My father's family never thought much of my mother and they actively discouraged him from being with her while they were dating. There's a lot of racism in Canada, even though most Canadians would never admit it. I was born and raised in Nova Scotia so I know. Even though I've never left Canada, I am often asked where I came from by Canadians of Caucasian descent. White people never get asked that annoying and politically loaded question even if they're fresh off the plane from Europe and don't know Jack about Canada. My response is to reply in a slick tone, asking them where in hell they're from. If you ask me, everyone in Canada is an immigrant. Unless you're a Native or Aboriginal person. Take that, you silly bigots! As much as I love and cherish my mother, she has an eschewed view of the world that I simply do not share. In mom's eyes, White men are kings and Black men aren't worth shit. She considers Black men to be deadbeats and crooks. Never mind that my White father never spent a dime on me without being forced to do so by the Canadian Justice System. A couple hundred dollars a month, that's all we got from him while I was a minor. No birthday presents, no trips to the zoo, none of the stuff people who care usually do with their sons and daughters. Me? When I meet a man, I evaluate him based on his character, how he looks at the world, and how he sees me as opposed to his skin tone. That's why my ex-boyfriend Stanley and I couldn't work out. The dude would make certain racial comments about minorities, especially Black men, around me and he'd act surprised when I told him I found these comments offensive. Eventually I got fed up with his sorry ass and dumped him. After splitting with Stanley, I decided to focus on school and work as opposed to my social life. I'm a Political Science major at Carleton University and I want to work for the Canadian government someday. I cursed myself for wasting nine months of my life with Stanley, a guy who was decidedly unworthy of me. That's why when Stephen asked me out, I happily said yes. Stephen Eugene definitely intrigued me. This six-foot-three, lean and athletic brother is originally from Montreal, Quebec. Like me, he's mixed-race. I could tell by his light brown skin, curly Black hair and pale bronze eyes. His father Joseph Eugene is originally from the town of Quartier Morin in the island of Haiti and his mother Isabella Abdullah is a Lebanese Christian immigrant. Wow, this dude is half Black and half Arab. I've seen plenty of Black women with Arab guys but Arab women who date Black men are rare. I was mystified by Stephen. The guy was smart, sexy and easygoing. He seemed to have recovered nicely from his breakup with that Somali girlfriend of his who left him because he wouldn't convert to Islam. Although I tried to appear sympathetic to Stephen as he dealt with the aftermath of the breakup, inside I rejoiced because I found this guy sexy and really awesome. Sorry that he went and got his heart broken but I was more than happy to pick up the pieces. That's why I showed up at his house today, looking like this. You should have seen the look on Stephen's face when he saw me. Dude was fresh out of the shower, in his bathrobe. Grinning, I planted a kiss on those sweet-looking lips of his and then he ushered me inside. Even though Stephen had been wining and dining me for several months, we hadn't done more than kiss, hug and hold hands. Well, today I wanted some of his fine chocolaty goodness. I kissed him full and deep, then we began undressing each other. I feasted my eyes on his fine, muscular body. Hot damn, nothing like a sexy Black man's body in this universe! Stephen caressed my breasts and smacked my ass, and I playfully smacked his hand. Gently he took me in his arms and lowered me on the bed. Once there, he kissed me all over, paying special attention to my tits. He sucked on the areolas, teasing me with his tongue and I grinned, urging him to continue. Stephen kissed a path from my breasts to my navel, sticking his tongue inside my belly button before spreading my thighs wide. My pussy already wet was totally exposed. He looked at me, winked and then went to work on me. I closed my eyes as Stephen gently teased my clitoris with his tongue before sticking his tongue inside of me, followed by his nimble fingers. I cried out in pleasure as he worked his magic on me, triggering an intense orgasm. Man, I hadn't known I could cum easily like that. For real. Stephen smiled at me and told me I hadn't felt anything yet. Then he went back to eating my pussy. I lay there, relaxing and enjoying myself as he extracted squeals of delight and cries of deliciously hot pain mixed with pleasure out of me. Yeah, the dude has skills, okay? Stephen let me take a breather, then asked me if I was ready for him. He stroked his long and thick, uncircumcised ebony dick and I licked my lips hungrily. Come to mama, I said. Smiling, Stephen did as he was told. I grabbed his cock, stroking it gently before taking him into my mouth. Stephen was in my power now, helpless on the bed as I sucked his dick and fondled his balls. While going down on him, I got a deliciously naughty idea. I slipped a finger into his ass and he gasped but didn't stop me. I slipped two fingers inside of his hole, and watched his dick get even harder in my mouth. Judging by his reaction, he clearly liked what I was doing. His eyes closed, he lay there as I worked him over. I reached into my purse and took out a slim pink dildo. The one I always carry with me for, um, emergency situations. I eased it into Stephen's ass. His eyes snapped open as I pushed the dildo all the way up his ass. Stephen stared at me, stunned. I stopped sucking his dick long enough to tell him to relax and trust me. He hesitated, but did as he was told. I continued sucking his dick and thrusting the dildo up his ass. I left the dildo embedded in his ass and I marveled at how hard his dick had gotten. Suddenly filled with kinky inspiration, I climbed on top of Stephen, straddling him. He seemed surprised, but pleasantly so. Smiling, his strong hands went for my hips and his hard dick thrust into me. I gasped as Stephen's hard dick entered my pussy. At last, my sexy stud was inside of me. Wrapping my arms around him, I began riding him hard, loving the feel of his hard dick inside my pussy. Stephen and I definitely got our freak on, and my sexy Montreal stud fucked me front, back and sideways. We went at it until total exhaustion, lying side by side on his bed, soaked in our own juices. Now that's my idea of a fine Wednesday! Black on Black Pegging: Immigrant My name is Claire Jean-Donald. I'm a Haitian woman living in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. I've been there since the 2010 Haiti Earthquake. My family sent for me, you see. I'm twenty six years old, beginning life in a new environment. I have had a lot of trouble adjusting to life in the Confederation of Canada. For starters, I don't speak much English though I understand and write it well. It's my pronunciation that needs a lot of work. I also found out that my business degree from the University of Roi Henri Christophe in the City of Cap-Haitien, Northern Haiti, isn't worth much in Canada. Canada actively discriminates against people with university degrees from outside its borders. According to them, I have to start my education all over again. Whoopee. That's how I found myself at the University of Ottawa, as a second-year student in the business administration program. The French Canadian educators at the University of Ottawa were a bit more sympathetic towards me when it came to the accreditation process. They've dealt with Haitian students before and know how dedicated we can be. They evaluated my transcripts from the Republic of Haiti, and accepted me as a second-year student in the three-year accelerated undergraduate business administration program. Next year if all goes well, I'll have my bachelors, then onto the MBA program. I guess things aren't so bad. I have always believed in taking on life's challenges. I don't give up. I don't give in. I wouldn't be a Haitian woman if I simply gave in. It's not our way, you see. My student loan at the University of Ottawa only covers tuition and books. I've got to do some part-time work in order to support myself. I did odd jobs here and there once I acquired a work permit and an Ontario health card. I worked as a waitress in this bar near the Rideau Mall but I didn't like it. Too many drunken white guys pawing at me. I got tired of smacking them around and fighting them off. I finally decided to do what I do best. All my friends and family members know that I'm quite possibly the bossiest woman on the planet. Well, I happen to be five feet eleven inches tall, curvy and dark-skinned, with short hair and wide-set, intelligent brown eyes that often sparkle with fury when I'm dealing with imbeciles. I'm a bossy Haitian mademoiselle through and true. The question is, how do I make money with that? The answer came to me quite by accident. I discovered porn on my cousin Eric's computer. He's nineteen, nerdy as hell, and attends Algonquin College in the town of Nepean, Ontario. He's really into porn, which doesn't surprise me at all. Lots of guys and quite a few girls are into porn. Me? I don't hate the stuff but I'm a doer, not a watcher. I get bored watching people doing stuff. Anyhow, I saw a very interesting porn video on my cousin Eric's computer. A tall, blonde-haired white woman was beating a stocky Chinese guy with a whip. And she called him nasty names while doing it. The funny thing is that the Chinese guy seemed to get off on it. Weird, no? I browsed the website. It belonged to a lady calling herself Mistress Diane the Aryan Princess. Her residence was listed as San Francisco, California. Hmmm. I found that website inspirational. I decided to become a professional dominatrix in order to make some money. I had a friend from school help me with building a website. We shot pictures for them. Photos of me wearing shiny Black leather outfits, holding whips and dildos and looking all sultry and bossy. I looked really hot while stroking a strap-on dildo jutting from my crotch area, if I do say so myself. Finally, the website was operational. And thus, I became Mademoiselle La Brute. The first, last and only Haitian-born professional dominatrix operating in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. Standard rate? Two hundred dollars for ninety minutes of fun. How about that, my friends? It took me some time to gain my wings as a full-fledged dominatrix. My first few sessions, I was a nervous wreck, though I didn't let it show. My first submissive was this white guy who called himself Pierre something or other. He came from the town of Montreal, Province of Quebec, just to see little old me. Isn't that sweet of him? For his troubles, I spanked him, whipped him, smacked his balls and stuffed his ass with a nine-inch, vibrating and fake cum-spewing strap-on dildo. Isn't that mighty nice of me? I really enjoyed bending Pierre over and sodomizing him with my strap-on dildo. This was the first of many sessions I had. Most of my clients were middle-aged white male professionals. From time to time I got college men. Once, I got a Hispanic guy named Pablo, a recent immigrant from El Salvador. He was a lot of fun to work with. I dressed him up in a frilly dress, painted his face with my makeup kit and made him do chores for me while he was dressed like a sissy. He really enjoyed getting bossed around by me, I could tell. I really enjoyed tying him up and burying my dildo so far up his ass, I'm surprised it didn't come out of his mouth. Pablo, or My Bitch Paula, as I called him, was a real screamer. It was a wickedly fun session. My all-time favorite session would have to be Edouard "Eddie" Joseph, a young Black man who the town of Gatineau, Province of Quebec, who came to me out of curiosity. Eddie was six feet two inches tall, slim, with dark brown skin and curly Black hair. Eddie was only nineteen years old, and extremely nervous. I assured him that he was in good hands. I must say he was one beautiful young man. I undressed him, then took him to bed. I gave him a full-body massage before beginning the session. I don't usually do that for my clients but I've got a thing for men of African descent. And even though Eddie didn't know it, we both came from the same place. The beautiful island of Haiti. I tell my clients that I'm of African descent, which is obvious, but I never go into the specifics. Got to keep some details to myself, you know? Anyhow, I finally had Eddie right where I wanted him. Naked on my bed, his hands and feet bound by ropes. I stroked his long and thick Black cock and massaged his balls. Again, I don't usually do this for my clients but this guy was simply delicious, you know? I applied lubricant all over his asshole, then slipped a gloved finger inside of him. He was tight, but not as tight as I would have thought. I asked him about it and he told me that he had been 'playing' with his ass. Solo. Interesting. I lubricated his asshole, then donned my favorite strap-on dildo. I looked into Eddie's eyes, smiled reassuringly at him and then pushed the dildo into his asshole. This was my ultimate fantasy coming true. I've always wanted to fuck a Black man with a strap-on dildo. And so I did. Gently, I eased the dildo into Eddie's asshole. He was really nervous as I penetrated him. I took my sweet time, feeding his tight ass my dildo ever so slowly. Inch by inch I worked most of it up there. All seven inches. On the first try. How about that? I worked that dildo up Eddie's ass like it was nothing. I raised his long, skinny legs in the air as I pumped the dildo into his well-lubricated asshole. Eddie just lay there, taking everything I dished out at him. I stroked his big Black dick while sliding the dildo into the depths of his asshole. I looked at our reflections on my bedroom mirror. A tall, sexy Black woman clad in shiny Black leather happily sodomizing a Black man with a strap-on dildo. Could you think of anything hotter? I fingered my wet pussy as I topped Eddie. Hot damn, I'm so horny. I continued fucking him until he begged for mercy. That's when I pulled out. Eddie sighed in relief, and thanked me profusely. I smiled. Men get so emotional after a good fuck. I love it. I let Eddie take a shower, then sent him on his merry way. I can't wait to fuck another man, preferably Black, with my trusty strap-on dildo. A dominant Black woman's ultimate fantasy. And mine shall come true again and again. Black on Black Pegging in Canada Hello, there. My name is Linda Lasalle. I'm a young Black woman of Haitian descent living in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. I was born and raised in the City of Cap-Haitien, Northern Haiti. I've been living in the Confederation of Canada since 2010. Ladies, I got a wickedly interesting story to share with you. It took place during the fall of 2011. I was starting my second year in Criminology at Carleton University when I discovered my avocation as a Dominatrix. Kind of cool, eh? Just call me Mistress Noir. That's my official handle by the way. I specialize in domination, and I particularly love macho men who think they can't be tamed. I enjoy turning them into sniveling little bitches. If that's your fantasy, step up to the plate, gentlemen. I created a website advertising my services. It contained dozens of hot, non-downloadable images of me wearing sexy Black leather outfits while carrying a riding crop, handling a whip and always sporting a strap-on dildo. The pictures looked downright tantalizing, I must say. I also listed my measurements. I'm five-foot-eleven, 32 double D's, with a twenty-six inch waist and a sixty-inch booty. What they call a ghetto booty in parts of North America. I have beautiful dark brown skin, long Black hair that I keep neatly braided and I seem like a really friendly, easygoing gal until you see the fire in my dark brown eyes. My classmates at Carleton University wouldn't recognize me if they saw me, and not just because of the black leather mask which covers the top half of my beautiful face. When I step into my Mistress Noir persona, I become something else altogether. I leave the old me behind, basically. The awesome power of a Dominatrix is what I possess. Soon, business came trickling in. I charge two hundred dollars for a ninety-minute session. And on average I book three sessions a day. Mostly on weekends, though. My first client was this tall, handsome biracial guy named Scott E. Banker. He looked like the government worker type. He actually contacted me via his Revenue Canada email. Men are so careless sometimes. I replied to him and set up a meeting. I also looked up some of his background information. Scott Edward Banker was born and raised in the town of Galway, Ireland. His father George Adewale is an African from Nigeria and his mother Jennifer Banker is White, of Irish ancestry. He moved to the region of Ontario, Canada, when he was twenty. He had a master's degree in business from York University. He holds dual Irish/Canadian citizenship. He was really good-looking with his curly Black hair, light brown skin and light green eyes. I got a thing for biracial guys. I love my Black men, though. A lot of mixed men are really cute. Scott Banker had a really interesting background. He's married to a French-Canadian woman named Madeleine Saint-Cyr. She's a tall, curvy redhead with icy blue eyes. Madeleine holds an accounting degree from the University of Toronto and works for Revenue Canada as well. She married Scott E. Banker five years ago and they are the proud parents of twin daughters. Scott is biracial but he's obviously closer to his White side than his Black side. That must explain his urgent message to me. A lot of biracial men of African and Caucasian ancestry tend to marry White women. They're not really into us purebred Black sisters. Still, some of them are sexually fascinated by us, even though those racial sell-outs would never admit it. That's what drove Scott Banker to seek me out, I think. Black men with White wives or White girlfriends lust after certain Black women. Just like Black men with Black wives or Black girlfriends lust after certain White women. It's all about the lure of the forbidden fruit. I've known some sisters with Black husbands who secretly fantasize about White guys. Hey, it happens. Scott Banker came to my apartment, and we had ourselves a good time. He looked so cute and professional in his finely tailored business suit. Clearly he was enjoying the benefits of being a highly educated, handsome and highly paid mixed-race professional in North America. Guys like him tend to do well in the corporate world. Black folks don't like to admit it but mixed-race people have it easier than most of us due to their lighter skin. The color complex is alive and well in the Black community of North America. Scott Banker surprised me by calling himself a brother instead of labeling himself a mixed-race person. I found that pleasantly surprising. I'm attracted to mixed guys but I can't stand the ones who can't admit to being Black. Like Tiger Woods. I wouldn't give him any pussy even if he was the last man alive on God's green Earth. I can't stand racial sell-outs. I'm glad those White women did a number on him. He would have retained his power and prestige if he married a Black woman. I mean, look at Hollywood superstar Boris Kodjoe and United States President Barack Obama. Both of them are highly successful men, they're both mixed, and they love Black women. Somebody has to tell the mixed studs that Black women aren't all bad! Anyhow, I made Scott Banker's fantasies come true. I bent him over my knee and spanked his light brown bottom until it turned a nice shade of red. I smacked his face, spat on him and berated him. I called him a little bitch and a sissy as I tortured his cock and balls by twisting them around roughly. He squealed in pain as I administered to him some exquisite cock and ball torture. I flogged him with my riding crop and smacked him around. I made him eat out of a doggy dish while fingering his asshole with my gloved fingers. He had a nice, tight asshole. And he was clean. Oh, yeah. I'm going to have some fun with him. I lubricated his asshole before sliding a slim green strap-on dildo inside of him. Scott Banker groaned as I penetrated him but did not scream. I decided to make him scream by shoving the dildo deeper inside of him. I held his hips tightly as I shoved the dildo further up his ass. I asked Scott if he ever fucked a woman in the ass before. He said yes. I smiled. Oh, well. It's payback time. Let him get fucked in the ass for a change! I flipped Scott Banker on his back and ravaged his ass with my strap-on. I fucked him until he begged for mercy, and even then I kept pounding him. I relentlessly filled his ass with my dildo until I saw tears in his eyes. Who's the bitch now, Mr. Macho Man? Much later, a very happy Scott Edward Banker thanked me profusely. He paid me four hundred instead of the agreed-upon two hundred. I initially refused, but he told me I was worth every penny. How could I argue with that? Thus began a mutually beneficial and totally professional relationship. Scott and I aren't friends or lovers. He's my client and I am his Dominatrix. He's never seen me without my mask and I prefer it that way. He comes see me every few weeks for a session. The guy loves strap-on dildos so much I sometimes worry he might have other tendencies. I dismiss such thoughts off-hands. Gay men and bisexual men don't like bossy, hot women with strap-on dildos. They prefer hot men with big dicks. Scott tells me that his wife isn't very kinky in bed and she doesn't care for anal play, either giving and receiving. I feign sympathy as he tells me but secretly I rejoice. If his White wife was kinky, he wouldn't need this gorgeous Haitian Dominatrix now, would he? Black On Black Pegging Is Addictive My name is Mustafa Mahmoud. A young Black man of Somalian descent living in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. I was born in the region of Mount Shimbiris in the great nation of Somaliland. The first day of February 1987. My family moved to the Canadian region of Ontario, three years later. My father Hassan Mahmoud is a Manager with OC Transpo, the Transportation Authority of Canada's Capital City. My mother Nadifa Mahmoud is a schoolteacher at Ottawa South's very own Laurier Military Academy, where she teaches Mathematics. We do alright for ourselves in the Confederation of Canada's Capital Region. Just a middle-class family of Black Muslims from Somaliland trying our hand at the North American Dream. My folks have always stressed the value of education to my siblings and I. And you know what? They were absolutely right. My older brother Taban Mahmoud is a graduate of the University of Ottawa Faculty of Law. These days, he works for a Law firm in downtown Toronto. He recently got married to a beautiful Haitian woman named Nicole Etienne. They met in Law School. My brother is my hero, folks. He continues to inspire me to keep going, even though he lives far away. My older sister Ayanna Mahmoud is currently studying Computer Science at the University of Victoria in the Province of British Columbia. She's engaged to this Jamaican-born RCMP Officer named Marlowe Jackson. First time I ever saw a Black guy in an RCMP uniform, to tell you the truth. I don't like cops and I don't like him but my sister says he makes her happy. What can I do, right? Anyhow, my siblings can take care of themselves. I've got my own life to live. These days, I'm a business major at Carleton University in the Nepean suburb of Ottawa. I like my school. It's fairly diverse. Lots of people from all over including Haitians, Mexicans, Irish, Saudis, Chinese, Ethiopians, Koreans, Italians, French-Canadians and of course us unforgettable Somalians. A lot of people seem surprised that a six-foot-five, bulky and chubby but ruggedly handsome Somali stud like myself is one of the top students in the business program at Carleton University. I don't know why. I know lots of educated Black men in places like Toronto, Montreal and Vancouver. Of all the big Canadian cities, Ottawa is the most resistant to progress. I recently went to the City of Calgary in the Canadian Province of Alberta. The heart of redneck country. I found Calgary folks oddly charming and quite friendly. Their Mayor is a Muslim guy, believe it or not. He's of Arabic descent. Lots of Blacks, Asians and Hispanics make their home in Calgary. I think it's a promising City. Too bad it's got a reputation for racism. The way I figure it, there are racists everywhere. You shouldn't let that colour your opinion of a place. I have met Black lawyers, Black doctors and high-ranking Black businessmen in the supposedly regressive City of Calgary. Ottawa has a reputation for being a nice, friendly City but you'd do well to watch your back down there. Strange but true. Calgarians tell you straight up whether they like you or not. Ottawa people are fake and will stab you in the back after pretending to be friendly to you if you're a minority. Just my two cents. I've had a lot happen in my life lately, folks. I broke up with my longtime fiancée Henriette Saint-Preux. The tall, blonde-haired and green-eyed French-Canadian beauty I met in the City of Montreal three years ago. We've been dating for what seemed like forever. That's why I was stunned when she dumped me for some British guy named Russell or something. I mean, we were planning on getting married. And then she did me in like this. I knew her Quebecer parents were opposed to us dating but I thought she didn't care. We were living together and everything! Oh, well. I guess you just never really know what's in someone's heart. That's why I decided I will never date another White woman again. No more White females. They act like they love you and don't care about colour or cultural differences and then they coldly dump your Black ass and act like you don't exist. They're cold bitches, man. I learned my lesson. No more White women. I'm going to stick to my Black women from now on. I recently started dating this beautiful Somalian gal named Bashirah Abdul-Mutallib. You've got to see her, man. Five feet eight inches of absolute Black feminine perfection. Light brown skin. Sparkling brown eyes. Long Black hair that flows freely from her shoulders on those rare times that she's not veiled. The first time I saw Bashirah, it was lust at first sight. Oops, I meant love. She moved to the City of Ottawa, Ontario, directly from the City of Hobyo in Somaliland. And for the most part, though she is fluent in English, she's been experiencing some culture shock. Africa and North America are radically different places. The Confederation of Canada and Somaliland are as different as night and day. Myself I had some trouble adjusting but I had my family with me. I can't imagine what it's like for Bashirah, who is an international student. She's the recipient of a scholarship to study at the University of Ottawa. The first time I saw that ass of hers, I decided I just had to have her. You've got to be persistent with Somali women. Especially the traditional ones like Bashirah, who won't leave her apartment without wearing the hijab. Man, I haven't dated a Somali woman in a while. I've dated mostly White women and Hispanic women while living in the City of Ottawa. I often sound Somali women too conservative and too rigid for my liking. However, after my negative experience with Henriette I swore off foreign women. Plus Bashirah was seriously hot. A gorgeous, educated young Black woman from my neck of the woods. Why not? I decided to go after her with everything I've got, and then some. We began dating, and things were progressing nicely. I found Bashirah alluring and passionate. Yes, Somali women are passionate. People think all Muslim women are dull. They're not. However, we were having a few problems. Folks, you better sit down for this one. A long time ago, I discovered a preference in myself for certain kinds of porn. The kind featuring dominant women whipping men and frigging torturing them sexually. I had a particular fascination for porn videos featuring women using strap-on dildos on men. Henriette understood this fetish of mine because she's into BDSM. Also, she liked to experiment in the bedroom. While I was with her, my kinky desires were met. Now that she's gone, I don't know what to do. Sex with Bashirah is fun, but I've got certain desires that she doesn't understand. The problem with Bashirah is that she's been conditioned to be a Man Pleaser. Like the majority of women from the Muslim world. However, I'm that rare Muslim man with a fascination for dominant women. You see my dilemma? Things went from bad to worse between Bashirah and myself. Sex with her became mundane, kind of boring. I found myself reading BDSM erotica online and jerking off to female domination websites featuring mean women brutally sodomizing men with dildos. Bashirah was frustrated, and I empathized. However, I couldn't tell her about my desires. It's ironic. My White girlfriend understood what my Black Muslim girlfriend couldn't. Sometimes, I simply want to be dominated. But my girlfriend is a practicing Muslim. Dominating men isn't in her repertoire. If I were to tell her about my desires, she'd find me strange. At least that's what I thought, until one day, my secret was exposed. I came home one day to find myself confronted by a very angry Bashirah. She had found my porn magazines and thrown them on the floor. I stared at her, stunned. I had never seen her this angry before. With fire in her eyes, she questioned my manhood. I stiffened. Her words stung. But what choice did I have but to listen to her irate words? My secret was exposed. I was a freak and a weirdo. A poor, pathetic excuse for a man. What kind of man wants to let a woman fuck him in the ass with a strap-on dildo? Bashirah stared at me. Angrily she pulled off her veil, revealing her beautiful face full of tears. I looked into her eyes and sighed. I told her that I loved her but kept secrets from her because I didn't think she'd understand certain aspects of my sexuality. Bashirah looked at me for a long time without speaking. And then she did the last thing I expected. She walked up to me, stood on the tip of her toes, and then she kissed me. To say that I was surprised would be an understatement. I was blown away. Bashirah kissed me passionately. And then she whacked me upside the head. Once again I stared at her, stunned. Bashirah smiled wickedly, and told me that she was perfectly equipped to satisfy my needs. And she didn't find them that strange. Taking my hand, she led me to the bedroom. And once again I was blown away. The place had been....redecorated. I saw whips, chains, dildos, vibrators, and more sex toys than most adult video stores had. Bashirah smiled at me proudly, and told me she would do whatever it took to make me happy. I looked at my beautiful, strange girlfriend and smiled. Bashirah smiled, and ordered me to get on my knees. I did as I was told, feeling quite excited. She squeezed her small, delicate feet out of her slippers and ordered me to suck on her toes. I did it happily, sucking on my lady's sexy toes. Bashirah smiled and ordered me to continue. I sucked on her toes, each and every last one of them. I couldn't believe what I was doing. My fantasy was coming true! When I finished sucking Bashirah's toes, she told me to call her Lady Bashirah from now on. And I nodded eagerly. Lady Bashirah had other pleasures and tortures in store for me. She bent me over her knee, all six feet five inches and two hundred and sixty pounds of me. And she yanked down my pants, pulled down my underwear and spanked me. And she didn't only use her hands either. Her small hands stung my Black ass quite a bit as she spanked me. She took a large hairbrush and paddled my ass with it. It hurt, and also felt kind of good. I screamed in pleasure and pain, totally loving it. I'm loving my girlfriend's dominant side! Lady Bashirah and I continued our fun and games. She stroked my eight-inch cock and balls, and fondled them while inserting her gloved fingers into my asshole. I was no stranger to anal sex. Lady Bashirah shoved two fingers up my ass while pumping her slim, strong hands up and down on my cock. Then she began sucking me while vigorously fingering my asshole. I screamed. I squealed. I came. And I totally loved it. That night, I fell asleep in my Lady's arms. I thanked Allah for giving me such a wonderful woman. Somali women are amazing! I don't know why I ever dated outside my race! Over the next few weeks, Bashirah and I got even closer together. She insisted that our female dominance/male submission games be kept to the bedroom. I had a different idea. Guys, I love being dominated by my woman. And I crave it more and more. Sometimes I try to piss her off while hoping she'd smack me. Lady Bashirah is a freak in the bedroom but she's gentle and downright meek in public. I had to downright beg her to lightly smack me while we were eating inside Saint Laurent's Food Court. While other folks around us looked on, I smiled and kissed her hand. Bashirah blushed, and told me I was getting punished when we got home. Am I lucky or what? We are discovering so much about each other sexually. I had many fantasies which I explored with my Lady Bashirah. I once came home to find her pissed off as hell, and she smacked me around and tied me up before pissing on me while calling me names. Then she rubbed her wet pussy all over my face. Another night, she sat on my face, squeezing my face between her big round butt cheeks. I simply love face sitting, folks. Nothing hotter than a curvy, sexy Black woman sitting on your face. You kinky brothers out there know what I'm talking about, don't you? I love my Bashirah but she's too nice and too restrained at times. She loves me and doesn't want to hurt me. I sometimes want her to beat me within an inch of my life. And other times, she won't do the female domination thing at all. She sometimes wants regular sex. During those times, I kneel before her and lick her hairy pussy. Then I stick my dick in her wet Black cunt and pump it with deep thrusts of my thick Black cock. Other times my Lady displays a downright submissive side. Like the time she asked me to fuck her in the ass after she sucked my dick so well, I cried to heaven. My Lady Bashirah was no stranger to anal sex, as I soon discovered. Quickly she got on all fours and spread her big Black ass cheeks wide open. I pressed my cock against her backdoor after lubricating it with the same lotion she normally uses on my ass before inserting dildos or fingers in me. Bashirah urged me to fuck her, telling me her ass hadn't been fucked in ages. The thought of any other man taking her like this momentarily filled me with some very masculine Somali rage. I eased my cock into Bashirah's backdoor and began to fuck her ass gently. From time to time Bashirah groaned, otherwise she was silent as I fucked her. Her asshole felt really warm and tight around my dick. To be honest, I enjoyed fucking her in the ass. Watching those big Black butt cheeks of hers bounce as I fucked her was awesome. It's fun to be different once in a while, you know? We went at it until I came, flooding Bashirah's asshole with my hot, manly cum. I can still hear her screams, man. They were that loud. Afterwards, she had tears of joy in her eyes. And she kissed me passionately, telling me that she loved me. I love my Lady. And almost immediately after I was done digging her ass, I asked her to do mine. And she did it happily. Bashirah didn't use her fingers or a vibrator this time. Nope. This time she used a strap-on dildo on me. I almost came with joy when I saw it. It was long, Black and thick. And it looked very life-like too. Bashirah told me that particular strap-on dildo was modeled after the dick of a world-famous Black porn star from the States. Hot damn. My Lady looked simply hot with the dildo strapped about her hips. Grinning, she ordered me to assume the position. I didn't need to be told twice. Happily I got on all fours and spread my cheeks for my Lady. Bashirah came up behind me, strap-on dildo ready. She lubricated my ass, then pressed the dildo against my asshole. I shuddered with excitement. This was the moment of truth. The moment I had been hoping for and dreading for months. My mostly hidden yet perpetual desire to get fucked in the ass by a dominant Black woman wielding a strap-on dildo. I know I'm not the only Black man out there with such a desire. Bashirah held my hips with her small but firm hands as she penetrated me. How to describe that first inch as it went in? It was pure anal heaven! I stroked my big Black cock as my sexy Black goddess penetrated my ass with her strap-on dildo. Gently she began fucking me. I groaned, and urged her to fuck me harder. I can take it, damn it. I didn't need her to be gentle. I'm no stranger to butt fucking. Upon hearing that, Bashirah spanked my ass and happily slammed the strap-on dildo up my butt. To say that I screamed would be a bit of an understatement. I didn't so much scream as I squealed. I felt like Bashirah was tearing my ass apart with vigorous thrusts of her large strap-on dildo. And you know what? I totally loved it! If I could pick a way to die, this was it! We went at it like this for some time, then switched things around. My Lady Bashirah flipped me on my back and squeezed my cock and balls real hard as she plunged the strap-on dildo right back into my ass. I looked up at my gorgeous Somalian goddess as she pounded my ass with her dildo. I reached up and fondled her big, firm breasts. She batted my hands away and continued pounding me. I noticed she was slacking off a bit with the force of the penetration. I had to get her back in the game. It's always a dangerous thing for a man to piss off a woman. However, I didn't care. I wanted her to hurt me. So I told her she couldn't get another scream out of me if she tried. My defiance spurred her on. Next thing I knew, she was smacking me around so damn hard I saw stars. And she plunged the dildo so deep into my ass, I'm almost surprised it didn't come out of my mouth. My Lady was cutting loose. She really let me have it, calling me all kinds of names, smacking me around and spitting on me while fucking me. And I absolutely loved it. When all was said and done, my Lady Bashirah squeezed tears and various fluids out of me. I looked up at my dominant Black goddess and told her I loved her. A tender look filled Bashirah's beautiful face, and she gently stroked my face. We kissed passionately. So there you have it, folks. I'm a Black Muslim man from Somaliland living in Ottawa who loves his Black woman. My Lady Bashirah means everything to me. I love her cute face. I love her dimples. I love her curvy body. I love her big, fantastic ass. Make that worship her big round ass. I love her on her sick days. I love her when she's happy and when she's sad. I love her even when she's mad at me and punishes me by NOT smacking me around or sodomizing me with her dildos for a few days. Yeah, I love her with all my heart. My parents like her too. My mother and sister are glad that I got over my "White Chick Fever" and found love with a beautiful Black woman from my culture. Bashirah has opened my eyes and shown me what love is. I urge my fellow Black men not to take our Black women for granted. They are amazing. And they're full of wonderful, sometimes twisted surprises. Had I known that what I was looking for was in my own backyard, I would have saved myself much time and heartache. Bashirah is starting to like living in Ontario. Especially after I showed her Toronto. We're getting married at the end of the year. My bride-to-be told me she's got a special surprise for me on our wedding night. And she's hinted that it's beyond kinky. I can't wait! Black On Black Pegging Is Amazing Danielle Wellington Lalonde here. A five-foot-eleven, short-haired and green-eyed, light-skinned Black woman of Jamaican and Irish descent living in the City of Toronto, Canadian Province of Ontario. I was born in the City of Galway, Republic of Ireland, on the first day of May of 1957. My father Liam Wellington was White and my mother Deirdre Jackson was Black. They met in the Republic of Ireland and moved to North America a long time ago. Just a pair of globe-trotting photographers in love. I've lived in my native Ireland as well as the United States of America, the Confederation of Canada and parts of the Caribbean but I consider myself a Citizen of Canada, first and foremost. It's the place my family and I call home these days. You see, I've lived in the Confederation of Canada for the past thirty five years. I am happily married to Clifford Lalonde, a big and tall, handsome Black man originally from the City of Cap-Haitien in the Republic of Haiti. We met in downtown Montreal a long time ago, fell in love and got married. We have two sons, James and Louis, and a daughter named Muriel. They're all university-educated, hard-working professionals. We have a lovely life together and a happy home. Proof that Black male/Black female couples can and do stay together. Black Love is not dead, folks. It is still very much possible between Black men and Black women today. I guess it all depends on your level of commitment. My man Clifford and I got it going on, as they say. However, now that our nest is empty we are seriously rekindling our passion. My hubby and I are in our fifties. Our sons and daughter are grown and moved on with their lives. Our eldest son James is an account manager with the Royal Bank of Canada. He makes decent money, and recently got married to a lovely young woman of Chinese descent, Amelia Chang. They have a brat on the way. How about that? My Clifford and I are about to become grandparents! Our other son Louis is currently a mathematics teacher within the York Public School System. He lives with his boyfriend Niles in a nice apartment within that charming little city. The revelation of Louis bisexuality kind of surprised us, considering he was engaged to a pretty White gal named Joanna mere months before meeting Niles. I guess the heart wants what it wants. Our daughter Muriel got engaged to a charming young man of Haitian and Scottish descent, Luke Connery. Yeah, our family is doing alright. All the more reason for my Clifford and I to have some wicked fun while we still can. Which brings us right here, folks. Clifford groaned as I brought the whip down on his ass. My big sexy Black man is determined not to scream as I unleash erotic hell on him. I wonder what it's going to take to get him to scream for me. I've already whipped him thoroughly in our basement. I've squeezed his big Black balls really hard. I've even dripped candle wax all over his sexy body. My man still looks good well into his fifties. However, he is stubborn in his defiance of me. I am not the kind of woman who tolerates disobedience. I am a whip-smart dominatrix and I will have my man scream for me tonight if it's the last thing I do. Our house in the Toronto suburb of Brampton sits atop a hill. Sounds carry easily but I don't care if our neighbours hear us. I'm having fun and the world can kiss my big Black ass. I berate Clifford while whipping him. Oh, nothing too mean, folks. I simply called him a bitch, a male slut and a useless whore. I told him that before the night was through, I would have him screaming and crying his eyes out like the bitch he is. I flipped him on his back and smacked his face while whipping him and berating him. Clifford laughs at me and tells me that I don't have what it takes to dominate a strong Black man like him. Well, that just about pisses me off, folks. Seriously. Time to bring out the big guns. I spin my whip and randomly hit Clifford's face, his neck and his back. I whip his chest, his belly and his balls. He groans sharply as I hit his balls with the whip. Hmm. Looks like we found a sensitive spot. Time to exploit his weakness, the chink in his armour. Things really intensify as I serve to my dear husband Clifford some serious ball whacking, courtesy of my whip. He grits his teeth but I can see in his eyes that he's ready to give up. We've played these wicked games before and I can accurately gauge his threshold of pain. Oh, well. It looks like this time my sweet Clifford is actually surprising me by holding on a bit longer than I thought he would. Oh, my. Where does he get such energy? I need to drain it out of him. And that's exactly what I did. I leaned over and fondled his cock and balls gently, surprising him with an onslaught of pleasure delivered manually after the exquisite pain I dished out mere moments ago. Clifford sighs, and unwisely lets his guard down. Viciously I whack his balls and at the same time I jam a finger up his ass. His scream of surprised pain was music to my ears. See? Told you I knew his weaknesses! The fool hasn't seen anything yet! I allowed Clifford to temporarily experience some relief, just long enough for me to fetch my biggest, meanest and scariest strap-on dildo. I stood over him, stroking my menacing plastic cock while glaring at him fiercely. Clifford's eyes widened. I smiled. I saw actual fear in those eyes of his. Good. I dipped my dildo in oil, and stroked it while watching my husband squirm. Then I decided the wait was over. I took the bottle of cooking oil and applied a copious amount all over my husband's asshole. Then I pressed the dildo against his backdoor. Looking him in the eyes I asked him if he had any last words. My way of teasing him. Defiant to the end, Clifford told me to go to hell. Laughing, I thrust my dildo deep into his waiting asshole. That's what he gets for defying me, his stern but loving mistress! I grabbed Clifford's legs and held them in the air as I slammed the dildo up his asshole. My husband gritted his teeth as I began plowing his ass with my dildo. I pounded into his ass, loving the way the dildo's hilt rubbed against my pussy as I worked it into Clifford's asshole. Clifford tried to resist me but I was too much for him. I was too determined, my dildo was too hard, and his ass was too well lubricated. In I went, like a Spanish conquistador in Mayan land. Slowly but surely, I got some screams out of my favourite macho man. Clifford lay there and took it as I thrust my dildo deep into his ass, loving the way his hard ass yielded to my powerful thrusts. I managed to work most of my dildo's ten inches up his ass. He bottomed out at eight and a half inches. That's when he finally screamed and told me he couldn't take anymore. I continued punishing him for just a few seconds, then gently eased my dildo out of him. I looked into my husband's teary eyes. Gently I kissed him. A victorious woman's kiss. He laughed and shook his head. I laughed too, and rested my head on his hairy chest. When all was said and done, I removed my husband's bindings and we made love the regular way. With me riding his cock which he embedded deep in my wet pussy. He fucked me hard, drilling me with powerful thrusts of his manly tool. We even got quite naughty and I let him stick his dick in my ass. Hey, I love anal sex. Both giving and receiving. And the feel of Clifford's big dick in my tight asshole was simply wonderful. It felt filled quite nicely. We went at it for the rest of the night, just like we used to when we were university students, so long ago. Man I miss those days. Oh, well. My Clifford and I still got energy to burn and we got the house to ourselves. I'm seriously thinking we should try our hand at swinging. What do you think? Black on Black Pegging is Cool I love taking men, especially strong men and turning them into whimpering little bitches, as a dominatrix it's what I do. The name is Mistress Mali and I'm a young Black woman of Somali descent living in the City of Ottawa, province of Ontario. No, it's not my birth name. Azizah Sheikh is the name I was given at birth by my parents, Muhammad and Halima Sheikh. Since I sincerely doubt they would approve of what I'm doing with my life these days, I keep it under wraps. Being a dominatrix to me is especially fulfilling since I come from a culture where men rule and women are nothing. I was born in Somaliland on February 5, 1988 and my family moved to the province of Ontario, Canada, on November 17, 1991. In 2009, I graduated from Algonquin College with my bachelor's degree in business administration. For a while I worked as a contractor for the Canadian Revenue Agency, hoping they'd offer me a decent position once I proved myself. I had plans for enrolling at the Sprott MBA program at Carleton University, believe it or not. Interestingly, I ended up getting fired by the CRA and after losing my job, I was lost. Working at Tim Horton's I found humiliating and completely beneath myself. I answered an ad from what I thought was a local modeling agency, and it turned out to be an escort agency. I worked as an escort for three months then got out. I didn't like being used as a living sex toy by wealthy men. I was tired of being at the bottom. I wanted to be on top. That's why I decided to become a professional dominatrix. As far as I know, I'm the only Muslim woman to ever work as a professional dominatrix. I didn't advertise my race or my religion because the Muslim world isn't tolerant of those who are different and I didn't want a fatwa on my Black ass. I became Mistress Mali, and I advertised my services on the back pages of local newspapers and online. That's how it all began, ladies and gentlemen. That was in July 2010. It's been three years and I've made on average about twenty five hundred dollars a month from my 'femdom' work. Not bad considering I only work about four hours a week on average, eh? A gal's got to do what she has to in order to stay alive. No, this isn't all I do. I work for Bell Canada as a sales associate at a certain mall in Ottawa, and my starting salary is fourteen dollars plus commission. I do alright for myself. I'm saving every penny that doesn't go into rent or groceries to pay for school. In September 2013 I will return to school to get my MBA, and I've chosen Carleton University for that. See? I'm not your average harlot. I'm a smart, goal-oriented young woman with big dreams. And I'm not letting anything or anyone get in my way. I have dominated men across the social and racial spectrum in my time as a professional dominatrix. From curious college or university student types to businessmen, working-class guys, government workers and others. All kinds of men come worship at the altar of the dominant feminine, which is what I represent. One of my favorite experiences involves the only Black male client I've ever had. While working as a dominatrix, I've dealt with white guys, Asian guys, Hispanic guys and Arab guys. I thought I'd never get a Black male client, to tell you the truth. Now, I know that lots of Black men and Black women love fetish and BDSM, they just keep it under wraps. I always figured that Black folks who are into the fetish lifestyle are very private about it. At least that's what I thought until I met Client 117, or Alain, as he calls himself. So, I was chilling in my apartment in Orleans one Friday night, watching a rerun of Dexter while eating potato chips in my undies. Hey, I'm at home so I might as well be comfortable, right? I got a call on my private line, and for some reason, I felt compelled to take it. I've got two phones, a regular phone with Bell Canada and a pay-as-you-go phone from Virgin Mobile which I use for my 'dominatrix business'. I typically take my weekends off, you know? For some reason I answered the call, and the voice on the other side stopped me dead in my tracks. The caller was Black and male, that much I could tell right away. Educated, by the sound of him, and young too. Twenty years old, max. I immediately switched from my 'chilling at home' voice to my Mistress Mali persona, sounding deliberately seductive and enticing. And it worked like a charm. Here I was, already settled in for the night, and this guy wanted to use my services. Usually I require at least four hours notice from potential clients. I deal in cash only, and my services cost two hundred dollars per hour. I spoke to the brother, who introduced himself as Alain. The more we talked, the more I realized how new he was to this. He told me he was an international student from the island of Haiti, and a newcomer to Canada. Hmmm. A Haitian guy. I've dated a lot of island guys in my day. They seem to appreciate us East African sisters more than African-Canadian men do. I mean, every Somali guy in the City of Ottawa is walking around with a fat white woman or a skinny Arab chick. I see Haitian men walking around with Haitian women and treating them like queens. Good for them. I told Alain that we could have a session tomorrow morning. You should have heard the excitement in his voice as he told me he was really looking forward to it. He told me that he'd longed to get dominated by a Black woman for ages. I had to smile at that one. Most of the male submissive types who come to me are white, with a few minority guys, mostly Asian or Hispanic, here and there. I never thought I'd get to dominate a Black man. Hmmm. This ought to be different. I found myself looking forward to the experience as well. The next day, game day, Alain called me, and I gave him directions to my spot. Forty five minutes later he showed up. A tall young Black man clad in a red silk shirt, blue jeans and boots. He barely looked twenty. And he had a Black and crimson Carleton University sweatshirt draped over his shoulder. Yeah, a student alright. Hello Mistress Mali, Alain said. I smiled and welcomed him inside. First things first. He handed me the money, and then I led him to the living room where we talked. I always do this with every new client, before and after a session. I make sure they know what they're getting into. I ran Alain through the whole nine yards, safe words, strap-on dildos, bondage, etc. He was most eager to begin, and to be honest, so was I. I was in full dominatrix gear, which that day meant Black leather bustier over Black leather miniskirt and thigh-high boots. Oh, and I wore my sexy chocolate-colored strap-on dildo, of course. Alain knelt before me, completely naked. I ordered him to kiss my boots and he did. I smiled. He's such an obedient little slave. He is really good-looking, I thought as I briefly admired our reflections in the wall mirror. A gorgeous Black man kneeling before a beautiful Black woman. What a magnificent tableau, I thought. I really got into it, for once feeling excitement as I practiced my 'art' instead of seeing it as 'just my job'. I put Alain through the paces that morning. The good thing is that my first Black male client proved far more resilient and willing to experiment than most of the other guys, who usually wimped out once I start with the spanking and whipping. When I asked him if he wanted me to fuck him in the ass with my strap-on dildo, he was all for it. A lot of guys get nervous and fidgety when they see my big Black strap-on. Not Alain. He grinned at me and got on all fours, spreading his ass cheeks for me. I looked at this handsome brother's sexy ass, and smiled. Then I rolled a condom on my dildo, sprayed some lubricant on it and positioned myself behind him. Time to rock and roll, I thought with a wry grin. I pressed the dildo against Alain's ass, then eased it inside of him with a slow but firm thrust. The first inch of my dildo slid into Alain's ass, and my beautiful Haitian stud groaned in pleasure mixed with pain. I asked him if he was okay and he nodded. I gently began fucking him with slow, deep strokes. As I fucked him, I felt a wave of excitement and pleasure coursing through me. I really got off on dominating him, and he seemed to really enjoy what I was doing to him. So I pumped my dildo up his ass, filling him up. I looked at our reflections in the mirror again and what I saw made me smile. Indeed that is a strong and beautiful Black man with me on his back deep in his secret place! I fucked him for a good while, delighting in every moment of the experience. And what great fun it was. Definitely one of my favorite sessions ever, I tell you. After this memorable session, Alain took a shower, then thanked me profusely before leaving. I gave him a hug, and sent him on his way. I watched him as he walked to the bus stop, caught it and headed from Orleans to Ottawa. I went back to my living room, and saw that I had a message from a friend. It was Amir, this Somali dude who's been after me for ages. We met at Algonquin College. He's at the University of Ottawa now, studying law. He keeps inviting me to the movies and stuff, and I keep turning him down. I love my Black men but dating is too stressful. I can't let someone into my life until things are back on track. Before I try another relationship, I want to be out of the professional dominatrix lifestyle and back in school, with a normal job. Still, I picked up the phone and told Amir that yes, I'd see him. I could hear the surprise in his voice. In truth, my decision to see him surprised me too. I'm in such a good mood thanks to Alain, I guess. Who knows, maybe Amir isn't uptight, conservative and boring like the other Somali guys. Maybe he's got potential. I'm giving him another chance. If he fucks it up, I'll tell him to lose my number. That's it, that's all. Black on Black Pegging is Cruel! Right now, I'm sodomizing my little Black bitch Heinrich John-Louis. The tall, slim and dark-skinned young Black man squealed as I worked my nine-inch strap-on dildo into his tight asshole. I smiled as I sank the strap-on dildo into the forbidden depths of his asshole. I've been wanting to fuck that Haitian punk for ages. He's one of those lazy Black guys in the City of Ottawa who is deathly allergic to the idea of higher education, having any ambition, or personal responsibility. Lots of young Canadian women in the City, both Black and White, actually like lazy Black Canadian guys like him. I really don't. Still, I occasionally don't mind fucking them, though. I prefer to date good-looking, educated Black men who are going places. Thugs don't do jack for me. From time to time some type of variety is cool. My name is Neesah Richardson and I approve this message. As a six-foot-tall, light-skinned and bodacious young Black woman living in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario, I attract my fair share of suitors. Black men, white men and Hispanic men come onto me regularly. Lately, Arab guys have been coming onto me too. I don't mind the attention. I'm just a gal having fun in the summer time. Not interested in getting hitched or having brats. Yes, not all women seek commitment. Especially young Black women like myself. We like to play around and have fun too. It's not just a man thing. You read right. I guess that's why Heinrich came onto me. He came to my house party with his cousins, who happen to be sorority sisters of mine at the University of Ottawa. We were having a masked ball and the fool showed up without a mask. I guess he's not too bright. The last time Heinrich was in school, I think Clinton was President. The guy thinks having a high school diploma and working odd jobs is super cool as he's entering his thirties. Like I said, we got a lot of loser type of Black guys in the capital of Canada. Now, there are lots of educated and ambitious brothers out there, but young Black women like myself don't like messing around with them. I guess that's why the white women have been stealing all the quality Black men. Us Black women have a thug fascination whether we like it or not. I thought Heinrich might be a good fuck and he didn't disappoint. I took him to my bedroom, got naked and told him to do his thing. The skinny Black dude knelt before me and licked my pussy. He fingered my snatch and got me real wet real quick. I wasn't surprised. Lazy Black dudes like Heinrich are usually good in bed, although they suck at everything else. He licked my pussy real good, then I made him put a condom on before fucking me. Heinrich drilled his eight inches of thick Haitian cock into my pussy, and I loved it. Haitian guys in Canada can fuck you good. They're not good for much else, though. Heinrich is as lusty and as dumb as they get. When I asked him if he wanted to try something kinky, he was all for it. I guess that's why he ended up face down and ass up, his legs and hands tied up, ready to get fucked by me. I hold onto the lazy Black man's hips as I thrust the dildo deep into his asshole. I berate the lazy Black mofo as I bang his ass with my strap-on dildo. Like so many young Black men living in the United States of America and the Confederation of Canada, Heinrich wants to be a rapper or some shit like that. Instead of attending college or university and making something of himself, he's wasting his time and wasting his life. What a moronic fool! I love punishing lazy Black guys like him sexually. That's what they get for wasting their potential. I smack Heinrich's Black ass and squeeze his balls really hard as I continue sodomizing him with my strap-on dildo. The Black stud is whining like the bitch he is. I spit on him and smack his face. It's what he deserves and we all know it. Now, please don't think of me as one of those angry sisters who hate Black men. I love Black men. I'm originally from Montego Bay in the island of Jamaica. I've been living in the Canadian province of Ontario for the past six years. When I first arrived, things like having a job and attending school were out of reach for me because I wasn't a citizen or a permanent resident. Now that I am a Canadian citizen, I endeavour to truly follow the path of greatness. I'm months away from graduating from the University of Ottawa with my bachelors degree in business. I did so well in the program that I have a scholarship offer from McGill University in the City of Montreal, Province of Quebec. Am I good or what? The Canadian government makes it tough for immigrants and international students who seek success in the Confederation of Canada. They make it awfully easy for those lucky enough to be called Canadians, though. Yet most Canadians don't take advantage of what's available to them. In terms of education, Canada simply rocks. Yet everyone knows it except Canadians. And I hate them for it. I hate lazy Black Canadians like Heinrich most of all. He was born and raised in Canada. He's got it easier than immigrants from just about every damn place. Yet all he wants to do is drive a fucking delivery truck for MacDonald's restaurant and be a fucking rapper. Ugh! With vengeful thoughts in my feverish mind, I flipped Heinrich on his back. I wanted to look into this lazy Black fool's eyes as I banged him in the ass with my strap-on dildo. I grabbed Heinrich's dick and squeezed it real hard while sinking the dildo deep into his asshole. You should have heard him squeal, folks. What a truly magnificent sound! To get more screams out of him, I smacked his face, spat on him and raked my sharp fingernails across his chest. His screams reached a whole new pitch. And I loved it! I rammed my strap-on dildo deep inside Heinrich John-Louis asshole. The young Black man didn't scream anymore. He howled. Yeah, howling is more like it. I fucked him really hard until I saw tears in his eyes. I leaned over and licked his tears then smacked his face so hard it sounded like thunder. You should have seen the surprised look in the fool's eyes. I guess he thought I was going to kiss him. As if! I banged his ass for a little while longer, then pulled the strap-on dildo out of him. I made him suck my dildo like a good little bitch. He could taste his ass on my dildo and made a face. I smiled. I thought lazy Black freaks like Heinrich loved anything ass related? I guess he doesn't like the taste of his own ass. Too bad! I told him to put his clothes on and leave my house. What he doesn't know is that I filmed the whole thing. Since I'm wearing a mask, I'm not worried. I unleashed the video of our sexual activities on the internet. Making sure everybody online got to know how much of a bitch this supposedly macho Black stud and wannabe player really is. My work here is done! After I ditched Heinrich and unleashed the video on the web, I took a shower. I'm going on a date with a handsome young Black man named Stephen Voltaire. He's tall and good-looking, and like me, hails from the Caribbean. He's one of the top Law students at Carleton University right here in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. He looks good, he's ambitious and he loves Black women. Sounds like the perfect Black man to me. He's taking me to East Side Mario's restaurant and then we're going to see Transformers. A classy guy who knows how to treat a lady. I am so going to give him some pussy after. Why? Because I'm a good sista and I make sure the good brothas stay happy. Black pussy satisfies a good brother and keeps him firmly believing in Black Love. Look at Will and Jada, Barack and Michelle. I want Stephen to be my Black Prince and I just know we're meant to be. Wish me luck. Peace. Black On Black Pegging Is Great I looked into my husband Andre's eyes as I slammed my slim, twelve-inch dildo into his ass. In those lovely brown eyes of his, I saw a look of complete and unabashed surrender. How I savoured that look of delicious helplessness. His ass is mine! Grinning, I raised his legs in the air as I continued pounding his fine Black ass with my big strap-on dildo. Just another Friday night in the Voltaire household. My name is Michelle Eugene Voltaire and I approve this message. Although his screams were muffled by the silk scarf I used to gag him, I could still hear my man groan and occasionally squeal as I continued penetrating him. Tonight he's my little bitch. What a pair we make. Him, naked and lying on his back, hands and feet bound by slim but strong steel chains. A five-foot-eleven, somewhat chubby but gorgeously dark-skinned and ruggedly handsome Black man in his late twenties. My beautiful husband Andre Louis Voltaire. A.L. to his friends in our hometown of Montreal-Nord in the Province of Quebec. Me? I'm the deceptively innocent-looking, medium brown-skinned Black woman who is taking him to heaven. Clad in a shiny Black leather outfit. A sleeveless Black leather jacket and Black leather miniskirt. Sans panties. I'm five-foot-nine, with short Black hair and a slim but curvy figure. I've got hips, I've got chest and I've got a big round ass. People say I look like a younger version of fading Hollywood starlet Halle Berry. Whatever. I'm not Halle, I'm something better. Purely and simply, I'm me. Something my man is all too thankful for. For I am that rare Haitian-born naturalized Canadian sister who exclusively loves the Haitian brothers in the vastness of the Confederation of Canada, no matter how trying they may be. Andre grunts as I stroke his nine-inch, uncircumcised Black cock and his big, hairy balls as I gently but firmly fill his ass with my dildo. Tonight that cock of his is mine to play with, as is that ass of his. Andre is always acting all macho around his buddies at the downtown precinct of the Montreal Police Service, where he works as a Constable. If only they could see him down. Getting fucked in the ass by his woman, and loving it. I've been wanting to top him like that for ages. Ever since I discovered his mostly hidden submissive side. Lots of Black men, especially the ones of Haitian descent, are always complaining about us sisters. They say we're too loud or too bossy. Well, I don't think we've got to change. We're perfect exactly as we are. They can take it or leave it. Especially since some Haitian brothers, like my dear hubby Andre here, actually love our bossy side. They just can't admit it. You should have seen Andre last night, begging me to fuck him in the ass. My favourite Black stud was actually on his knees, begging me. He looks so cute when he grovels. Since my husband is a submissive who craves pain, the only way I can really punish him is to NOT berate him or smack him around. That drives him nuts. He craves the pain and humiliation that I dish out. And he'll do anything to get it. In fact, one of his top fantasies is to have me come home and unleash hell on him. Me, his favourite angry Black woman, whom he loves deeply. Most Black men would be terrified to come home to the kind of Black woman who smacks them around, berates them and literally beats them into submission. It's every Black man's nightmare scenario right there. Well, it's my husband's fantasy. He's really into BDSM and I guess I am too. And what can I do, you know? I'm determined to be a good wife. I love my husband. Andre is my special guy. And I truly love and cherish him. Loved him ever since I saved his ass from drowning at the pool while we were attending McGill University in the City of Montreal. He was showing off for Heather O'Leary, some chubby, blonde-haired Irish bimbo he was dating at the time. She didn't even bat an eyelash as Andre's dumb ass struggled at the bottom of the pool. An expert swimmer, I dove to the rescue and ended up saving my favourite fool. That's how Andre and I officially met. We were in some of the same Criminal Justice classes at the time but we had never spoken. I don't talk to Black guys who are into White women. They're a lost cause. After that incident, Andre and I became pals ( and eventually a couple ) while Heather O'Leary faded from the picture. My Andre and I were made for each other. A sexy, smart and ambitious Black Canadian couple. We were destined to go places. Andre opted for the career option and went to Police College after graduating from McGill University with his bachelor's degree in Criminology in 2009. As for me, I graduated the same year but opted for Law School afterwards. The McGill University Faculty of Law has a nasty habit of showing preferential treatment to outsiders rather than students from its own undergraduate programs but I got in. It's the best Law School in the Confederation of Canada hands down. That's one of the many reasons why my man loves me. I got it all. Beauty, brains, ambition and some seriously twisted and kinky tendencies. While fucking Andre's ass, I have some wicked fun of my own. Part of the strap-on dildo is inserted into my pussy. And it fills me up nicely. Pain and pleasure for my dear husband equals pain and pleasure for me. Every time I slam the dildo inside of him, it sends part of the dildo even deeper inside of me with a nice recoil. I moan in pleasure as I fuck my man. Andre groans, and asks me to go harder. I smile wickedly. Well, well. That is certainly good to hear. He likes it rough, eh? I didn't need to be told twice. I began slamming my strap-on dildo into my sexy man's ass a fucking jackhammer. Andre screamed as I fucked him hard. I pulled the dildo almost all the way out, added some lubricant and then shoved it right back in. And here we go again! To intensify things a bit, I really went nuts on Andre. Hey, don't look at me. I'm not doing this because I'm a mean bitch. I'm just giving him what he wants. I smacked him hard across the face, and spat on him. I called him a little bitch, a punk and a fool. I told him he was a filthy slut and that his punk ass belonged to me. And he looked into my eyes and nodded, calling me Mistress the entire time. Mistress, hmm. I must say I liked the sound of that. I grabbed Andre's cock and twisted it sideways, eliciting a squeal of pain from him. How I loved that sound. I continued twisting his cock sideways and smacking his balls while slamming my dildo up his ass. Deep down in places that have never seen the light of day. I feel like an explorer. In a way, that's what I am. Because I am boldly going where no woman has gone before. Up my man's ass with my trusty strap-on dildo. Andre was really enjoying himself as I went wild on him. To really shine him on, I pressed a special button on my special dildo. And my kinky device unleashed a torrent of hot artificial cum ( made from heated lotion) inside of him. Andre's eyes went wide and he screamed as my hot 'cum' filled his ass. I guess he wasn't expecting that. I laughed and pulled out of him. A short while later, Andre and I were well on our way to falling asleep. I snuggled up to him on our king-sized bed, and we kissed tenderly. I laid my head on his big, hairy chest. My favourite Black man cradled me in his arms. I looked at our reflections on the dresser mirror, smiling to myself. I looked deceptively fragile, the meek gal in the arms of her big, strong husband. No one would ever suspect that I had just dominated the hell out of him a mere half an hour earlier. That's the secret of my success. I dominate every guy I get with. And I tend to go for macho-looking Black guys like Andre here. I love breaking them down and reshaping them. Like I did with my Andre. I love him and he loves me. We're happy together. I'm more than happy to deliver the kink he needs in the bedroom. And if he ever leaves me for another woman, he's history. I'm a strong Black woman in love. Don't fuck with me. It might turn out to be the worst mistake of your life. I demand loyalty and I accept nothing less. You've been warned. Black On Black Pegging Is Hot The name is Fatima McArthur. A young Black woman living in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. I was born and raised in the City of Detroit, State of Michigan. I've been living in the City of Ottawa since the summer of 2009. I came here for school and work. These days I attend Carleton University, one of the better schools down there. You might wonder what an African-American gal from the racially diverse big American City of Detroit is doing in an uptight, boring little place like the Canadian City of Ottawa. Well, I have my reasons for being here. I left a White guy at the altar, and it's not the sort of thing that White men can forgive a Black woman. I left Brian Hartley, this Irish guy I knew growing up in the City of Detroit. I decided I couldn't marry him the day I discovered he was a bigot. Lots of White men who claim to like Black women also despise Black men. Just like a lot of Black guys who like White women can't stand White men. Well, I call a bigot a bigot. I couldn't spend my life with someone like that. I have brothers and they are Black. My father is Black too. And even though my mother is Persian, I consider myself wholly Black. Brian swore he'd kill me after I left him for saying one nasty joke too many about my people. He's locked up right now but whatever. I'm not taking any chances. White men are great at killing. Dating one of them for so long was the biggest mistake I ever made. What can I say? Young women make mistakes and sometimes people get hurt. Sometimes men's hearts get broken. It wasn't intentional. I didn't set out to hurt Brian. I just couldn't be with a White man who found dark-skinned Black folks threatening and espoused the view that mixed-race individuals were better. I dumped him because it was the right thing to do. Then I struggled to move on with my life. When I won an academic scholarship to one of the finest schools in Canada's capital region, I saw it as a great opportunity. I moved to Ottawa, and embraced my new life. A couple of years later, I am bored out of my mind. Oh, I'm one of the top students in the Criminology program. Carleton University's Institute of Criminology and Criminal Justice is one of the top in North America. However, the City of Ottawa itself is something else. The people are dull, boring and bigoted. They're not used to racial or cultural diversity yet they like to think of themselves as multicultural and cosmopolitan. Whatever. I'm here for school. I guess I'll have to find some way to stomach these losers. In a dull world like the City of Ottawa, a self-respecting and self-loving Black sister like myself must make her own fun. I became an amateur dominatrix. I've dabbled in BDSM before. I'm forthrightly bisexual and quite adept at dominating both women and men. I became quite popular in the growing BDSM scene of the City of Ottawa. I had all kinds of clients. From wealthy White male clients from the City's business and political circles to sexy Latin women, curious Asian women, twisted Asian men and the odd Arab couple. Things didn't really heat up until I hooked up with my first Black male client. A handsome Black businessman from the City of Toronto, Province of Ontario. This stud was none other than Matthew Sykes. Six feet two inches tall, well-built and handsome. Like me, he's American. Originally from the City of Atlanta, Georgia. He's been living in the Confederation of Canada for about seven years. Long enough to graduate from the University of Toronto's Faculty of Law. Previously, he attended Clark Atlanta University in his hometown. These days, he works for the Toronto City Council as a Special Interests Attorney. Whatever that is. Matthew is married to a pretty Japanese lady named Akira Yamamoto. They have two sons and a daughter together. They live in the Toronto suburb of Brampton. When Matthew contacted me online, I learned quite a bit about him. He was definitely an interesting guy. The kind many sisters would be drawn to. And I was no exception. When he came to me, I was all smiles. Truth be told, I was kind of nervous about dominating a sexy Black male like Mr. Sykes. My sexual experiences with Black men have been mostly limited. I'm tall, curvy and light-skinned, with curly Black hair and pale green eyes. I consider myself Black even though my father is of Black and Hispanic descent and my mother is one hundred and ten percent Persian, straight from the United Arab Emirates. Add to that the fact that I was raised in a practicing Muslim household, and you'll see why a lot of Black men find me unapproachable. Never mind that I find Black guys really hot. They tend to assume I'm stuck up just because I'm mixed. Yeah, I have a long of strong feelings about the Black men I love so much. For one of them I left a White guy at the altar. And he ditched me for a Dutch woman. Isn't life ironic? I took Matthew Sykes to my dungeon, for lack of a better term, and showed him what I could do. I decided to take charge like the dominant mistress I was supposed to be and dominate Matthew Sykes as I would any other submissive who came into my care. This big and tall, ruggedly handsome Black man came to me because I could give him something he couldn't get at home. I undressed him and put him in his place. First I knelt before him and sucked his cock. Matthew Sykes had a nice, big Black dick. Long and thick, and also uncircumcised. I'm a Muslim woman of Black and Persian descent who loves uncircumcised dicks. Especially uncircumcised Black dicks. They look simply yummy. I love to suck them and play with them. How about that? I sucked Matthew's dick like my life depended on it. He groaned in pleasure as I worked on him. I reminded him who was in charge by thrusting two fingers up his asshole. For I am his mistress and he is my slave. After sucking Matthew's cock and fingering his asshole, things intensified between us. I tied him up and whipped him with my belt. I dripped hot wax on his face and all over his cock. I fingered his asshole some more. Then I took out my strap-on dildo. Matthew's eyes were as big as saucers when he saw it. I smiled nastily and told him I was going to fuck him with it. And so I did. I bent him over, spread his ass cheeks wide open and lubricated him with lotion. Then I thrust my plastic cock into his asshole and fucked him like a little bitch. This was my first time fucking a Black man in the ass with my strap-on dildo. And I'm a Black woman! I held onto Matthew's hips as I thrust my dildo deep into him. Hard and fast I pounded his ass. He screamed like a punk. I berated him and spanked his butt while slamming my dildo into his asshole. I fucked him until he fucking cried for mercy like the little bitch I knew him to be all along. And it was great! Matthew Sykes thanked me for a wonderful time. Then he took the bus to Toronto to be with his Japanese wife and mixed brats. As for me, I began designing a new website to attract a racially diverse clientele to my services as a Black Muslim dominatrix. The only Black Muslim dominatrix out there as far as I know. I advertised my services as follows. I describe myself as the kind of dominant Black mama who will drill her strap-on dildo into the willing assholes of Black men, Hispanic men, Arab men, Asian men as well as Aboriginal men. I don't discriminate. Guys, line up to get topped by yours truly. I'm ready to rock your world. Black on Black Pegging is Okay Romulus Stephen sat in his bedroom in the small apartment overlooking The Park in Vanier, around the eastern bend of metropolitan Ottawa, Province of Ontario. The big and tall young Black man sat at the computer with his pants down, and furiously stroked his dick. On screen, a sexy Black woman was banging a slim White guy in the ass with her strap-on dildo. The Black dominatrix at the Black Female Supremacy Universe website sodomized her latest submissive, and basically made him cry as she savagely fucked his ass with the strap-on dildo. While topping him, she called him every name on the book, scrawled the words "sissy" and "slut" on his face and chest with her lipstick and even pissed on him. Oh, yeah. The Black dominatrix knew how to destroy a man. Romulus pumped his cock until he came, squirting all over the keyboard. Smiling, he wiped his hands and thighs with a paper towel, then cleaned up his keyboard. He went to bed, and lay there, unable to sleep. It was ten o'clock on a Friday night and Romulus basically had nothing to do. There wasn't much of a nightlife in the City of Ottawa and when you're a broke-ass brother like Romulus, your options are pretty much limited. Earlier he swung by the Carleton University campus, where he studied Criminology part-time. Summer school was in full bloom and the school was packed with hot chicks in miniskirts. Romulus hadn't gotten laid since January and the month of May was ending while June was rearing its ugly head. Romulus sighed, and thought about what his life had become. When Romulus came to the Province of Ontario, Canada, from his hometown of Cap-Haitien in the island of Haiti, he experienced a brand new world. The big and tall young Haitian came to North America with dreams of making it. He did his senior year at Saint Augustine Academy in the south end of Ottawa and then enrolled at Carleton University after graduation. At twenty two, Romulus could still count on one hand the number of times he'd gotten laid. His first time was with that hot White chick named Cheryl, whom he met the summer after his graduation from Saint Augustine Academy. Tall, blonde-haired and green-eyed, Cheryl was studying business administration at La Cite Collegiale and found the eighteen-year-old Haitian stud positively sexy. The French Canadian gal from the town of Gatineau, Province of Quebec, liked Black men and made no bones about it. Thanks to her, Romulus was no longer a virgin. Romulus thought Cheryl wanted a relationship with him but it was all lust and no love with her. Cheryl was the kind of White chick who would have sex with lots of Black men behind closed doors but publicly, she would barely acknowledge their presence. A lot of White women were like that. Romulus thought Cheryl wanted to be his girlfriend but all he was to her was a booty call. While he enjoyed the sex they had and was truly happy to lose his virginity, he was a bit saddened when she told him that she never wanted to see him again. Casual sex with Black males was something Cheryl believed him. She didn't want to date a Black man. Can't have her lily-White friends from Gatineau find out that she likes Black guys. French Canadians are more racist than most other White people in the continent of North America. Their hatred for Blacks and other minority groups was well-known throughout Canada and beyond. As a newcomer to Canada, Romulus didn't know that because nobody bothered to tell him. Romulus learned his lesson, and decided that he needed himself a girlfriend. And he wanted her Black. Easier said than done. In the City of Ottawa, there were lots of Black women but it seemed that most of them had issues. For example, Somali women were gorgeous but most of them didn't want to date Black men from other nations and cultures. It's true that most Black people living in Ontario disliked Somalis but Romulus wasn't like other Ontario people. For starters, while he was a permanent resident of Canada, he was still technically a citizen of the Republic of Haiti. He didn't think like Africans living in Canada or other Black Canadians. Growing up in the island of Haiti, Romulus was exposed to a lot of Black pride and achievement. The young Haitian wasn't raised to back down before any sort of challenge. He came to Canada firmly believing that the Black person was the equal of men of other races in intellect and ability. Many Black people from other parts of the Caribbean or certain African nations thought White men and White women were better than Blacks and practically worshipped them. Many African men living in Canada married White women because they felt it would help them advance in society. Many African women living in Canada chased White men because they felt Black men no longer wanted them. Canada was a tough place for Black people. Romulus understood why so many Black Canadians seemed self-loathing. If only they believed in Black Love and Black Power like Haitians and African-Americans did. It might help them advance in society. Still, he wanted a Black woman and so far, his search for the right one was unfruitful. The Black women in the City of Ottawa simply weren't looking for Black men. Romulus felt that he was definitely shit out of luck, so to speak. When Romulus Stephen enrolled at Carleton University, he felt it would be a challenge for him. Most of the Haitians living in the City of Ottawa preferred schools like the University of Ottawa and La Cite Collegiale for higher education because they were bilingual. Romulus felt that Carleton University was a better school because it was racially diverse and also strictly English. As a Haitian national, Romulus spoke Haitian Creole and classical, Parisian-style French effortlessly. The French that French Canadians spoke sounded strange to him. Half the time, he couldn't understand what they said because of their weird pronunciations. Romulus liked it at Carleton University. About half of the students were non-White. Africans, Asians, Arabs, Hispanics and others. People of color were a common sight in the hallways of Carleton University and Romulus liked that. There were a lot of pretty Black women on the Carleton University campus. Sadly, many of them believed that Black men weren't shit and they were chasing White guys and Arab guys left and right. Romulus found that funny and kind of sad at the same time. Black women were famous for complaining about Black male/White female couples in the news. Yet they were passing over perfectly decent, educated young Black men for men of other races. Funny. Romulus decided to explore his options. He went out with a beautiful young Indian woman from the City of Montreal whom he met in his sociology class at Carleton University. What was her name? Something with an R. Doesn't matter much at this point in time. Yeah, it is safe to say that it didn't work out. She thought he was messing with her Chinese girlfriend Janice behind her back and it was totally untrue but she didn't believe him. After that, he dated Evelyn, a beautiful young Black woman from Nigeria. Evelyn was cute and feisty, but she also had violent tendencies. He had to get rid of her before she got him in trouble. Yeah, in his lifetime, he'd dated five women and gotten laid exactly twice. Evelyn had been kind enough to give him his first taste of Black pussy. Still, her way of treating people? Not very impressive. Tonight, Romulus felt bored. So the next day, he flipped through the pages of the Ottawa Fire newspaper and found some escort ads. One lady, a self-described Afro Amazon, also specialized in domination. That perked his interests. He dialed the number, and a sleepy but sexy female voice answered. The lady at the other end sounded nice enough. She described herself as Jamaican, standing five-foot-ten, curvy, with big breasts and a firm, round ass. She specialized in spanking, bondage and strap-on play. Oh, and like the rest of her, her rates were firm. Two hundred roses for an hour long session. Not negotiable. Romulus agreed, and told her he'd meet her around noon. She lived in the east end, though further from him. He lived a ten minute walk from the Saint Laurent Mall. She apparently 'worked' on Montreal Road. Cool. That wasn't too far from him. Romulus showered, then went to the Lebanese-owned grocery store near his apartment. He withdrew two hundred dollars from his Royal Bank of Canada debit card. He'd gotten paid Thursday and his employer, Securitas Canada, deposited eight hundred and forty bucks in his account. Not bad for a couple of weeks work. Romulus walked through The Park and crossed into Mac Arthur before finding himself on Montreal Road. He went to the motel she indicated, then dialed the number. The same female voice as before told him to come to room seventeen. He did, and was greeted by a vision of loveliness. Afro Amazon looked hot in a red tank top and Black leather miniskirt. Romulus smiled as she welcomed him inside. Romulus took a look around the room, and saw that it was neat. Afro Amazon was one fine lady. She kind of reminded him of Tennis legend Serena Williams, only a bit thicker. The lady looked hot, with her long Black hair, deliciously curvy body and well-made up pretty face. Oh, and killer legs and nice round booty. Afro Amazon smiled as he admired her, and told him he looked good. Then she asked him for payment. Romulus smiled and handed her the envelope containing the money. Afro Amazon counted it and then put it on the nightstand. Taking his hand and leading him to the bed, she asked him what he wanted. Romulus smiled, and told her he came here to fuck and get fucked. Afro Amazon smiled, and told him those things were her specialties. Afro Amazon laid Romulus on the bed, and took excellent care of him. First, she got naked, showing what she was working with. Romulus drank in the sight of the seriously hot Black woman who stood naked before him. She joined him on the bed, and proceeded to suck his average-sized, uncircumcised Black dick. She sucked him real good and got him nice and hard. Afterwards, she climbed on top of him, impaling her pussy on his cock. Romulus looked into Afro Amazon's beautiful face as she rode him hard. Hot damn she was beautiful. He told her as much while gently touching her breasts and stroking her beautiful face. The sexy Black female escort smiled and thanked him while riding him, squeezing his dick with her tight cunt. Next, Romulus took her while she was on all fours, face down and ass up. Watching her big booty bounce under the force of his thrusts really turned him on. Afro Amazon moaned softly as they fucked. Finally, for the piece de resistance, she donned her strap-on dildo and took Romulus on the ride of a lifetime. Romulus practically quivered with anticipation as Afro Amazon spread his ass cheeks and applied lubricant all over him. When she pressed the dildo against his anus, he slowly let out his breath. Slowly, Afro Amazon began fucking Romulus in the ass with her strap-on dildo. Although it hurt at first because he was real tight, the big Haitian man took it like a champ. Soon he was moaning in pleasure and begging her to fuck him harder. To really shine him on, Afro Amazon flipped Romulus on his back and smacked his face while berating him and sliding her dildo deep into his ass. The humiliation and pain only intensified the young Black man's feelings of submission, and he loved it. Much later, Romulus got dressed up and then thanked Afro Amazon for a wonderful time. Then, he wished her a good day and walked home. Truth be told, he was walking a little funny after getting pounded in the ass by a sexy Black woman's strap-on dildo. It was everything he thought it would be, and more. Much more. The young Black man felt like a million bucks. His weekend just got brighter and better. So what if he was a couple hundred dollars shorter? He already paid his rent and did groceries, so he'd be alright until his next paycheck. He told himself this wouldn't be the last time he used the services of escort girls like Afro Amazon. He was a firm believer in capitalism. If the Ottawa college and university women didn't want to date a brother, he'd find his fun elsewhere. Black On Black Pegging Is The Biz! To think Max was reluctant to even think about trying this. The first time I brought up the subject, Max shot me an amused look and told me that he wasn't a fruitcake. I shrugged and pretended I was joking, all the while imagining all the positions I could get his sexy ass into. And he does have a sexy ass. Maximilien Augustin stands five feet eleven inches tall, somewhat chubby, with dark brown skin and a round, roughly handsome face. He doesn't think of himself as beautiful but to me, he's really hot. I like chubby, dark-skinned guys with pearly White teeth. He's only the second Black guy I've dated, by the way. Before Max and his American-born immediate predecessor, I was solely into White guys. Why did I switch? After all, I'd been dating White guys since high school. I attend a mostly White school in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, where I grew up. A White guy took me to the prom. I even lost my virginity to a White guy. Why am I into Black guys all of a sudden? Well, a certain Jewish guy named Matthew Rosenthal's failure to stand up to his racist mother Beatrice on behalf of me, his darling girlfriend, utterly convinced me to switch teams. Black guys have their faults but White guys are too damn cold for this sister. They never stand up for their minority girlfriends when bigoted White women get in the way. I guess they fear burning their bridges because they don't plan on sticking with us for too long. To me, that was a sign from above. Matthew and I simply weren't meant to be. It's bye for White guys. Yeah, I said it. The name is Stephanie Wadsworth, in case you're wondering who this is. To look at Max and I, you would never think we were an item. He's shorter than me by two inches. I'm six-foot-one. Also, I have light brown skin, short Black hair and pale green eyes. From my mother I inherited my height, curvy body and big round booty. Mom is six feet tall, and my pops is only five-foot-eight. My father Liam Wadsworth is Caucasian, of Irish and British descent. He's a cab driver from the City of Toronto, Province of Ontario. My mother Marguerite Jean-Jacques is Black, of Haitian descent. She's from Cap-Haitien, on the Northern shore of the Republic of Haiti. They met in Canada's capital region in the early 1980s, got married, had me and subsequently divorced. Nowadays my mother lives with Sebastien Charles, a stocky Black guy from Guadeloupe. They met at the hospital where mom works as a nurse. As for my father Liam, he's currently dating this Chinese lady named Ming or Ping or something. Sorry, I can't remember her name because we only met once and from the way she looked at my mother and me, I could tell she didn't like Black people. That's okay by me because I didn't like her short, skinny ass either. For as long as I can remember, I've always believed in pushing the envelope. I was the first gal to play football at Saint Augustine Academy in the South End of metropolitan Ottawa, Ontario. I wasn't some damn kicker either. I was a tight end. I'm tall and quick on my feet. I think I could have made quarterback if they'd let me. How awesome would that be? The only female player on the football team gets to be the damn quarterback. Chauvinists and traditionalists would be pissed. Feminists would shout to the mountain tops. Nah, I loved playing the tight end position. I played all four years in high school. I gave some serious thought to trying out for the University of Ottawa's varsity football team but I didn't quite make it. You see, I got injured during the summer after high school. The doctor told me that while I wouldn't limp, if I took another major hit in that region of my spine, I'd be wheelchair-bound for the rest of my days. I love football but not enough to throw my life away. I guess my varsity football days are over, eh? At the University of Ottawa, I focused on my studies in civil engineering. Life was good until I met Matthew Rosenthal. Tall, lean, blond-haired and blue-eyed. Exactly the way I liked my White guys. A nice Jewish lad from the City of Calgary, Alberta. And he was okay in bed, too. Had a good-sized dick and knew what to do with it. Too bad he lacked a spine when it came to confronting his overbearing mother Beatrice, who really doesn't like the chocolate people of the world. And that included caramel-skinned biracial cuties like myself. I told Matthew adios. If there is one thing I can't stand, it's dumb guys with no spine. Also, I dislike racists. I've met a lot of racist White people in my day. My paternal grandparents, Henry and Louisa Wadsworth, disowned my father Liam after he married my mother, a Haitian woman and sired me. I refused to follow in my mother's tracks. I didn't want to end up divorced, lonely and bitter. Better that I find out now that Matthew and guys like him weren't right for me. It seemed that to White men, us Black women are fun to play with but they don't like the idea of marrying us. Are there exceptions? Absolutely. Hollywood legend Robert DeNiro comes to mind. He loves Black women and doesn't hide it. However, most of the other pale bozos out there feel that by marrying a sister, their stock in the Caucasian power structure diminishes. Even in the twenty-first century. Being naturally cold and calculating, guys like Matthew always choose in their own best interests and it's we Black women that suffer. I have to say that at first, I found the idea of dating Black men kind of appalling. I'm sorry to say that my mother, a Haitian woman, raised me to see Black men as nothing but gangsters and wannabe athletes/musicians. My mother idolized everything Caucasian even though my White father's family refused to attend their wedding and I never actually met any of them. Only after my father divorced her, and she lost a breast to cancer, did my mother finally realize that she was wrong. Not once did my father visit mom in the hospital. He was too busy catering to his wealthy family, who found his Chinese girlfriend far more acceptable than the Black woman he sired a daughter with. While in recovery, Mom bonded with Sebastien Charles, a Haitian guy who worked in the same hospital. They're together now. I wish Sebastien good luck because my mother is quite a handful. And I've never met a Black woman who hated the men of her race with greater passion. There's a lot of pain there but I don't have the time to dive into the details. When I met Max, I was kind of fed up with relationships in general. My first Black boyfriend, a handsome African-American exchange student named Jamal Winston, actually ditched me for a fat blonde-haired White chick named Nicole Pimental. He paraded with her all over the University of Ottawa campus, making me feel ridiculous. I was really cold to Max when we met. However, he slowly melted my heart. Max was friendly, easygoing and completely relaxed. Everybody seemed to know him at the University of Ottawa even though he was a Carleton University student. Even though Max was of Haitian descent, he didn't speak much French so he wasn't comfortable attending U of O even though half of his high school buddies went there. Max was born and raised in the City of Cap-Haitien, Republic of Haiti, the same place where my mother came into the world. He was twenty two years old at the time we met, a year younger than me. He'd been living in Ottawa for about five years. He still had a thick Haitian accent when he spoke. I found it charming, though he was kind of embarrassed by it. Max pursued me relentlessly the way the Steve Urkel character pursued and eventually wore down Laura Winslow in the television series Family Matters. What can I say? Somehow he grew on me. I guess I just fell for him. Max and I had definite chemistry, in and out of the bedroom. The guy loved to lick my pussy. He would go down on me for hours. I would lie naked on our bed and he would come between my legs, to lick, suck and finger my pussy all night long. The fact that I never bothered with shaving never bothered him. Also, something in my body chemistry makes me allergic to vaginal deodorant so most of the time, I just flaunt my own aroma down below. That didn't stop Max from licking my pussy like oral sex was going out of style. The guy knows how to make me cum what seems like buckets of my womanly fluids. I can't get enough of his expert lovemaking. Max's dick is one of my favorite parts of his body. That and his ears. He's got cutely weird ears like U.S. President Obama and the actor Will Smith. I love to bite his ears while stroking his dick, which is short, thick and uncircumcised. After dating several Jewish guys, I found myself fascinated by a Black man with an uncircumcised dick. Life is funny like that. I love Max's foreskin. I love to tease him down there with my tongue and fingers because his genitals are really sensitive. Also, sometimes I finger his asshole while sucking his cock. This drives Max absolutely nuts. He's into having his ass played with, though he can't admit it to himself. Well, I fucked his ass with my gloved fingers many times and he loved it. He seems to cum really intensely when I shove my fingers up his ass. For that reason I decided to fuck him in the ass with a strap-on dildo. Now, that was easier said than done. Max is wonderfully creative in bed. He will lick my pussy, suck my toes, lick my asshole, sniff my armpits, lick my tits and give me a deep massage before and after sex. I think it's because his dick is not very long, though it is quite thick. Kind of weird, I know. He's about seven and a half inches, which I think is a good size but Max watches a lot of porn movies featuring overly endowed Black porn stars like Tony Duncan, Lexington Steele, Brian Pumper and Mister Marcus. I got to admit I enjoy watching these guys in their movies too. Hell, I got a thing for Black porn starlets like Jada Fire, Skyy Black, Skin Diamond and Cherokee D'Ass. People say that I closely resemble Skin Diamond and I take that as a compliment, though I'm much taller than her and I'm built like frigging Serena Williams! Anyhow, where was I? Oh, yes. I was telling you about how I convinced my sexy boyfriend Max to give up the booty. Simply put, I blackmailed him into it. Max loves me more than he loves himself. To him, I'm a dream come true. He calls me his Black Goddess, his Ebony Princess and his Nubian Queen. I love Max too, but to be honest I know he loves me more than I love him. Sometimes I feel guilty about it. Anyhow, for my purposes it worked to my advantage. I denied Max any affection until he tried my strap-on. Something he vehemently opposed. Two weeks went by. No hugs. No kisses. No sex. Not even any butt patting. Max loves my ass. My heart-shaped pendulum of temptation. And he would do anything to get some of my booty juice. Including giving up his ass. Finally, he gave in. I smiled triumphantly, and took him to the adult video store. I bought a strap-on dildo modeled after the penis of a certain African-American porn star. It was long but not very thick, which would work fine for what I had in mind. Max nearly fainted when he saw it. I smiled and told him we were going to have fun. I took Max home, and there we made love. We kissed and frolicked in the hot tub, making bubbles and fondling each other. Then we went to bed, and I climbed on top of him. Hard and fast I rode him after impaling my pussy on his thick cock. I think we used up a whole pack of Magnum condoms that night but I'm not sure. Max groaned as I rode him. He loves being inside of me. And to be honest, I loved the feel of his thick cock in my pussy. Last month for his birthday I let him do me in the ass. He's the first and only guy I ever let in my ass. It hurt a bit, but felt kind of good because Max patiently followed my instructions as he fucked me and we had plenty of lubricant. Anal sex is wickedly intense and felt really good, though it's not something I want to try every night. Tonight, it's Max's turn to try anal. With me as the penetrator. Hurray for gender equality in the bedroom! After sexing Max up for hours, I rolled off him. He sighed in pleasure and gently kissed me. I smiled tenderly at him like the loving girlfriend I am. Then I told him to get ready to get fucked in the ass. Max's eyes widened. I guess he was hoping I had changed my mind. Fat chance of that happening! His ass is mine tonight. Yup. Max smiled sheepishly as I maneuvered him into position. Face down and ass up, mister man! I admired Max's sexy ass in this position. Hmmm. His cute ass looked so wonderfully vulnerable. Good. I took the lubricant and smeared it all over his ass. Max complained that it was cold. I playfully smacked his ass. After properly lubricating him, I rubbed the strap-on dildo against his asshole. Gently, I pushed it inside. Max tensed and jerked as I penetrated him. I grabbed his hips, holding him firmly into place as I began fucking him. Max seemed really tense and nervous as I began pounding his ass ever so gently with my strap-on dildo. I was gentle with him, sure, but I was also having my fun. I kept smacking his ass as I fucked him. Gimme that ass, I told him as I fucked him. He loves to say these words to me when he takes me doggy style. Well, tonight the roles are reversed. I was torn between gently making love to Max with my strap-on dildo since it was his first time getting pegged ( or fucked with a strap-on) or really slamming him because I kind of really wanted to hear him scream. Well, he made the decision for me by asking me to fuck him harder. Oh, wow. He's really enjoying this. I kind of realized that as I saw how hard his cock had gotten. I fucked him with gusto, really letting him have it. Max screamed. I laughed. It was hot. His hungry ass swallowed more than half of my dildo. Wow. Either he's got a really elastic asshole or he hasn't been honest with me when he said he's never tried dildos before. Hmm. I pull out of him, easing the dildo out of his ass. Max sighs in relief, and screams. I smile and ask him if he's okay. He shouts that he feels great. I smile and kiss him. I'm glad he enjoyed himself. Max has fallen asleep shortly after our most intimate session of lovemaking to date. That's a shame because I really wanted to talk to him about it. I had a lot of fun banging my sexy Black man with the strap-on dildo. I'm not one of those sisters on a power trip but I really enjoyed the feeling of power and sensual dominance as I took my man to the edge. It's fun to be the penetrator, for a change. Let him know how it feels to be the one who gets entered. It might teach him a thing or two. I watch Max as he sleeps peacefully with a smile on his face. I think I went easy on him tonight. Tomorrow I'm buying a bigger strap-on. Black On Black Pegging: It's Hot! The life of a young Black man in North America is seldom easy. However, I'd be lying if I said it wasn't worthwhile. And I owe it all to my special lady. I love my Black goddess. There, I said it. And I don't care if it makes me sound whipped, or weak, or whatever. My name is Steve Jean-Simon and I approve this message. At the time of this story, I was living in the town of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. Odd place for a Haitian-American guy from the City of Boston to find himself in, don't you think? I was basically exiled to the town of Ottawa because I royally fucked up at Boston University, man. I lost my scholarship and much of my livelihood over some ridiculous crap. It involved me, a White chick, some weed and a racist cop. My exasperated father, Massachusetts State Trooper Leonard Jean-Simon, sent my ass to stay with my aunt Nancy Jean-Simon Dexter in the town of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. I wasn't happy to find myself in the Confederation of Canada, which I considered the most boring place on God's green Earth. I enrolled at Carleton University in the town of Ottawa because it was the only school that accepted me. And in Psychology Class, I encountered a young woman who would later mean the world to me. Fatou Nagombe. A young Black woman from the Republic of Gambia in the depths of continental Africa. Short, skinny and lively. No big breasts. No wide hips. No big butt. This Black chick was built like a typical White chick! Definitely not my type. I tend to like tall, quiet ladies with curves. And for most of my life in the town of Boston, Massachusetts, I dated tall curvy White girls. I hate to admit it but the Black girls in the town of Boston could be too much for a brother. Seriously. Too much attitude isn't a good thing, ladies. Trust me on that one. The brothers aren't impressed. I don't know what your girlfriends got you believing. Anyhow, I was smitten with Fatou Nagombe from the moment we met. I had never met anybody like her. The gal was so energetic, funny and lively. I felt very lonely in Ottawa. I didn't feel too comfortable with my aunt Nancy, who happened to be my father's older sister. I didn't like her husband Albert Dexter, a White guy from Great Britain. He thinks it's okay to tell Black jokes just because he's married to a Black woman. I reminded his ass that he's not Black, nor is he funny. He's disliked me ever since. I moved out of my aunt's house in the wealthy suburb of Barrhaven and rented an apartment in the town of Vanier, not far from downtown Ottawa. Rent is really cheap in Vanier, but it's kind of a seedy neighborhood. Whatever, I just needed a place to stay. Anyhow, busing from Vanier to Carleton University could get complicated if you let it. I used to take the number seven bus but I found out that if I took the number four bus at Hurdman Station I could get to campus faster. I quickly acclimated myself to life on campus. Carleton University is really diverse. Lots of students from Africa, India, China, the Caribbean and Latin America. I thought the campus would be overwhelmingly White but that wasn't the case. How cool is that? Anyhow, back to the topic at hand. I found myself fascinated by Fatou Nagombe, the young African who was so different from the Black girls that I grew up with. African girls are so quiet, friendly and reserved. The Black women I knew in the United States of America were a loud, outgoing and opinionated bunch for the most part. Sometimes, I missed the fire of African-American girls. I didn't miss their attitude though. Not one little bit. One day, I psyched myself up to ask out Fatou Nagombe, and to my immense surprise she said yes. We began dating. My brothers, African girls are all that and then some. Conservative on the outside, freaky on the inside. And they're always classy and lady-like. The City of Ottawa is full of lovely, university-educated African women. Unfortunately, most of the young African men in this town aren't interested in school or dating African women. Well, I'm different from those other guys. I've always been academically driven. I graduated with honors from Boston Latin Academy. I also won an academic scholarship to Boston University, which I unfortunately lost because of some unfortunate events. I aced my classes at Carleton University. I think I represent Team America well. And unlike most of the young Black men living in the City of Ottawa, I had a lovely young African woman on my arm...while getting a top-notch education. Folks, it's sometimes hard to believe in Black Love. A lot of Black guys simply don't date Black women. And you've got a lot of Black women who hate the very notion of dating a Black man. The funny thing is that a lot of times, Black guys who date White women do so because they're fed up with Black women. And those Black women you see walking around with White guys have had many unpleasant experiences with Black males in the past. That's how a lot of Black men and Black women justify their interest in interracial dating. Of course, some of them happen to genuinely fall in love with someone outside the race as opposed to being driven to them because of something lacking in the Black community. Everybody's got preferences, I guess. I don't judge Black guys with White girlfriends/wives or Black women with White boyfriends/husbands. For most of my life, I've dated White women. I used to say I was never going to marry a Black woman because the angry, drama-filled, eternally pissed-off Black women of America were all that I knew. I didn't even think of African ladies straight from Africa. Of course, not all African women are saintly and not all African-American women are she-devils. One must not generalize. Nothing good comes out of it. As I lie in bed next to Fatou Nagombe after a night of passionate lovemaking, I can't help but smile. Sometimes I forget how much power my African goddess packs in her five-foot-five, 117-pound body. And last night, she really laid it on me. Guys, um, I have something to confess. I'm into fetish stuff, and I'm really submissive in the bedroom. You wouldn't know it to look at me. I'm six-foot-three and weigh 247 pounds. I used to play football a lot when I lived in the town of Boston. My old school, Boston University, doesn't have a football team unfortunately. Otherwise I would have played for them in the NCAA Division One. Anyhow, Fatou and I are really compatible in and out of bed. My sweet, shy and friendly, deeply reserved Gambian girlfriend can transform herself into a leather-clad and whip-wielding dominatrix when she wants to be. And I love her for it. Mere hours ago she put me through hell, but in a good way. I found myself tied up, face down and ass up. My sexy girlfriend Fatou looked totally sexy in her Black leather miniskirt and tank top. She bent me over and spanked me, first with her hands then with a wooden paddle. It hurt but I kind of liked it. Afterwards she stroked my cock and balls roughly before applying lubricant all over my asshole. I kind of nervous right about the time she started poking my asshole with her gloved fingers. She asked me if I liked it. I said yes. Declaring that I wasn't loud enough, she smacked my ass. I groaned. Moments later I felt something hard entering my asshole. Fatou whispered into my ears that she was going to bang my ass with her strap-on dildo. I nodded as she penetrated me. And just like that, my sexy lady began pounding me in the ass with her strap-on dildo. As Fatou really laid it into me, I found myself thinking about how she discovered my strap-on fetish in the first place. Growing up in the Haitian-American community of Boston, I had a macho image to maintain. Yet I also had what I'm going to label undisclosed desires. While my buddies watched porn featuring Black guys like Brian Pumper and Mr. Marcus slamming big-booty women of all races, I watched another kind of porn. In the videos and magazines I purchased, bossy women in dominatrix outfits fucked tough-looking guys into submission with strap-on dildos. I never admitted this to anyone. And I wouldn't have admitted it to Fatou either. I was really good at licking her pussy, and sticking my nine-inch, uncircumcised dick deep inside of her. Fatou loves riding me hard as I pound her tight African cunt with powerful thrusts of my Haitian cock. Show her what us Caribbean descended dudes are all about. Well, now she was giving it to me, man. Fatou flipped me on my back and raised my legs in the air as she worked the dildo deep into my asshole. The fact that I was bigger and stronger than her didn't stop her or intimidate her in the least. And she was working that strap-on dildo like she was born with it. I screamed in pleasure mixed with pain as she fucked me with it. Hot damn. While fucking me, Fatou stroked my dick. Man, it drove me over the edge. Soon I was shooting my cum all over the place. Fatou continued fucking me, pounding my ass until I felt like I was being split in half. She didn't relent until I begged her to stop. Smiling wickedly, she pulled the dildo out of me and told me that my tight ass was now a gaping asshole. Then she pulled the condom off the dildo and stuffed the dildo into my mouth. Is she a naughty bitch or what? Man, after that experience, I was breathless. Fatou wrapped her arms around me, and asked me how I felt. Man, I didn't have the words to describe how I felt. Too many conflicting feelings. Fatou kissed me, then went to sleep. I looked at her and she slept. Hot damn. What a woman! Man, if I knew African ladies were anything like my dear Fatou Nagombe, I would have moved my ass to Ottawa a long time ago. I want to marry this young woman, for real. This isn't the sex talking. I just think she's amazing. And I want to be with her always. I guess I found the one I was meant to be with. I had to travel a long way to find her but hey, it was totally worth it. It's my life. Black On Black Pegging: Lady Cop Running all over the Hood. Catching law-breaking Black men. And punishing them the best way I know how. That's what I do. I love to make them change their ways. This looks like a job for me, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Rhonda Jackson. I was born and raised in the City of Detroit, way down in the State of Michigan. My parents Antoine Jackson and Andrea Miller Jackson got divorced a while back and my mother moved to the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario, with me when I was just starting High School. Mom found work at the American Embassy in downtown Ottawa as a translator since she speaks like eleven languages. Me? I had to adjust to the Canadian school system basically solo. I eventually managed to do just fine, though. Ten years later, I am a Constable with the Ottawa Police Service. I hold dual American/Canadian citizenship and I have a Master's degree in Sociology from Carleton University. I opted for a career enforcement rather than becoming a social worker. And I love my damn job. I love riding around in my Capital Region metropolitan police cruiser, looking for troublemakers. My favorite patrol area is the town of Vanier. It's full of wannabe thugs. Like our friend Ahmed Abdullah here. He's a tall, nice-looking young African man originally from the town of Mogadishu in the Republic of Somalia. Last year he was studying business administration at Algonquin College. This year, he's a drop-out who's smoking a lot of weed, getting into fights with other fools and chasing fat white chicks. Such unproductive things for a young Black Canadian man to be doing with his life, don't you think? I decided to correct Ahmed. He's still young, I say it's not too late for him to turn his life around. Seriously. I told him to stop running the streets, and to get a job instead of wasting his time. He didn't listen to me. I warned him twice. The third time, I had to punish him. Those are the rules, ladies and gentlemen. Nothing I can do about that. That's why I've got Ahmed handcuffed right now. I've got him pants down and ass up. Under the pretext of searching him for drugs, I stripped him down. I spread his ass cheeks and fingered his asshole. I also looked under his ball sac. He called me a dumb bitch and a racist cop for searching him. He also called me a traitor to the Black race for working for The Man. I know one way of making him stop cussing. I took his cock into my mouth. The young Somali thug wannabe immediately stopped cussing. He seemed surprised that a six-foot-tall, big-bottomed and totally sexy Black policewoman like myself would get on my knees and suck his dick. However, he sure as hell didn't protest. In fact, he started thrusting his hips. Clearly he loved the feel of my sweet lips on his dick. I sucked him till he was rock hard. After I got done sucking Ahmed, I asked him what he was going to do for me. Grinning, the Somali stud told me he loved eating pussy. I told him to show me what he got. And just like that, we got it on. I lay on the hood of my police cruiser, pants down and legs spread. Ahmed began licking my pussy like there was no tomorrow. Man, I thought I had gone the whole nine yards when it came to eating pussy but Ahmed definitely taught me a thing or two. His faded college identification card stated he was only twenty years old. How come he knew how to lick pussy so damn well? I don't know and I sure as hell don't care. I was too busy squealing in delight as Ahmed thrust his fingers inside of me, bit my clitoris gently and fingered my asshole. Hot damn. That last part drove me over the edge. I love having my ass played with while someone is licking my pussy. Ahmed was so damn good at pleasuring me that I just had to give him some play. I put a condom on his dick, and hopped on for a ride. Even with his hands cuffed behind him, Ahmed thrust his cock deep inside of me. He hammered my pussy with powerful thrusts of his dick. I screamed in delight and wrapped my arms around him as I rode him for all he was worth. While fucking me, Ahmed got really loud. He kept calling me a nasty slut in a police uniform, a silly no-good whore and a dumb cunt. That last part kind of stung but I was having so much fun with his dick deep in my pussy that I put any thought of protest in the back burner for a while. Ahmed fucked me so good that he could have said two plus two equaled five and I would have shouted hell yes! Where did that young Somali guy learn to fuck like this? Hot damn! Ahmed made me scream, cream and squeal. And in the end, I gave it up. Yep, I loved his dick in my pussy so much that I just had to have it in another hole of mine. Yep, that one. Ahmed laughed as I bent over the hood of the police cruiser and spread my ass cheeks for him. He slid his cock into my asshole and began pumping it up. It's the curse of being a tall, curvy Black woman with a big booty. Everybody wants to fuck you in the ass. Ahmed fucked my ass so good I screamed in pleasure in three languages, English, French and profane! After fucking me so damn good, Ahmed squeezed his dick out of my now aching asshole. I hadn't gotten butt-fucked in a while. This was pretty hot. Still, Ahmed did disrespect me while we were fucking. I didn't appreciate the "fuck the police" statements coming out of his damn mouth. So I gave him a taste of his own medicine. Let's see how he likes it when the police fucks HIM. He was still handcuffed so I forced him to the ground and spread his ass cheeks wide open. I pulled a strap-on dildo from my handbag and shoved the dildo up his ass. Ahmed squealed like a little bitch as I penetrated his ass with my strap-on dildo. As I began fucking his ass roughly, he pleaded and begged. And he begged and pleaded. He moaned. He squealed. He whistled. He howled. And he moaned some more. Mercilessly I slammed my dildo so far up his fucking ass, I'm surprised it didn't come out of his damn mouth. I flipped Ahmed on his back because I wanted to look into his eyes while pounding his ass with a strap-on. And I did just that. I widened his asshole with powerful thrusts of my strap-on dildo. I made the macho Somali stud cry. Real tears, people. It was so hot! After giving Ahmed's asshole the pounding of the century, I let him go. I told him that if I ever caught him vandalizing property, smoking weed or acting a fool again, I would wreck his ass. Ahmed had a glazed, stunned look in his eyes as I removed his handcuffs. The next time I ran into him was three months later in the Baseline Station area near Algonquin College. I pulled up beside him and asked him what he was doing in the neighborhood. He told me he was back in school. He also promised me he'd given up smoking. He even showed me his class schedule. I smiled at that. Then I told him to get in my police cruiser. He suddenly looked terrified. I looked at his crotch and told him I was hungry for his dick in my mouth, pussy and asshole. Suddenly, Ahmed's facial expression changed from scared to extremely happy. He got in and sat beside me. I drove us back to the park, where I fucked his brains out. Thug wannabes get my strap-on up their ass, and the nice ones who stay in school get to fuck me in the ass. That's how I run this town, folks. As you can imagine, I'm extremely popular with young Black men in Ottawa. They call me Officer Friendly! Black on Black Pegging : Love & War Lying on my back with my legs in the air, my mouth filled with drool, I am finally where I've known all along I was definitely born to be. Stroking my short but thick Black cock with one hand while pumping a strap-on dildo up my ass with the other, that's my lady Evelyn Nestor Adejola. And she is fucking me with that strap-on dildo like she was born with it. What kind of guy is this? I know that's what you're probably wondering. Well, I'm the kind of guy who gets off on female domination. Most specifically Black female domination. Although you'd never guess that by looking at me. Ladies and gentlemen, I can honestly say that I'm living proof that looks can be deceiving. My name is Stefano Duchene and I approve this message. I'm a big and tall Black man who looks like he should be knocking dudes down on the Football field. I was a fearsome force as a Soccer player in my hometown of Cap-Haitien in the Republic of Haiti, a long time ago. Now I'm just a kinky guy who pushes the envelope emotionally, intellectually and sensually with a very willing lady. I recently admitted to myself that I've got a thing for bossy Black women and they don't get any bossier than Evelyn Nestor Adejola of Kano City in the Republic of Nigeria. When we first met at Carleton University in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, to say that we clashed would be an understatement. Seriously. However, surprising everyone who knows anything about the two of us, we somehow bonded. We can't spend more than a few minutes around each other without arguing but still, there's something that glues us together. For starters, Evelyn is one of a few Black women I can actually be myself around. I consider myself bisexual, even though I've never had sex with another man. I feel attracted to both women and men, though I definitely prefer women. I could never see myself living with a guy. I guess I'm technically bi-curious. A lot of women, especially Black women, would flip out if their man told them he was not exactly one hundred percent straight. Evelyn has always been okay with this side of me. More okay with it than I've been. First she dragged the truth out of me, then she accepted it. See? One of many reasons why I love my lady. Too bad we just can't get along. Well, as you can tell, we get along in the bedroom. In there, my lady Evelyn is wickedly creative and adventurous. Tonight, she offered me a special little treat. When I showed up at my apartment in the Vanier sector of Ottawa, I found the place darkened. Curtains were drawn tightly over the windows, and the only light in the place was provided by candles. I was surprised, to say the least. I found Evelyn sitting on my king-sized bed, clad only in a White bra and matching panties which contrasted with her dark brown skin. Evelyn smiled wickedly like only she could, and gestured for me to come to her. I smiled smugly, not believing my luck. I walked up to Evelyn, feeling my excitement grow by the minute. Clearly I was going to get laid that afternoon. As soon as I got close, Evelyn stood up and pressed her sexy body against me. I tried to kiss her but she shook her head, dancing away just out of reach. I reached for her sexy ass. My lady is tall and slender, with a firm body. Her ass isn't huge but I love it just the way it is. Nice and round. I love everything about my Evelyn. From her feisty Nigerian temper to her sharp mind, her fine body, her neatly braided hair and her full lips. I love her soulful dark brown eyes which can look tender and flash with anger from one moment to the next, always without warning. Speaking of without warning, Evelyn suddenly smacked me hard across the face. I stood there, bristling. It kind of stings, you know? Evelyn smiled, and then pushed me on the bed. Is she mad or she is happy? Is she playing around or is she serious? Even after knowing each other for a while, I can never tell with her. Evelyn kissed me full and deep, then proceeded to undress me. Off came my crimson and ebony Carleton University Ravens T-shirt, then my dark blue sweatpants. Evelyn made a remark about my not wearing socks, and I rolled my eyes. She wouldn't be Evelyn if she didn't complain about something. Naked, I felt a bit self-conscious. I'm a bit chubby, even though it looks okay on my six-foot-two frame. Evelyn didn't seem to mind. She kissed me all over, tugging on my chest hairs and actually pulling some of them off. I gasped in pain and she laughed. Then she took my hands and tied them to the bed posts, then did the same thing to my legs. I watched as she positioned herself between my legs, and rested her face between my thighs. Inches from my aching manhood. I was hard as hell, and my dick was demanding some attention. Being a meanie and a tease, Evelyn ignored it. I looked at her, and my eyes begged her to do something about my hard, aching dick which badly needed some female attention. Preferably in manual or oral form. Evelyn smiled, told me I was pathetic, then fell silent as she took my dick in her mouth. I watched as she sucked me off, and I sighed in pleasure. Evelyn stopped sucking me for a moment, told me to quit looking at her, then went back to the business at hand. Or is it the business at mouth? I closed my eyes, trying to relax while my lady went to work on me. It's never a good idea to argue with a woman, especially if she's literally holding onto your manhood. I just closed my eyes, relaxed and enjoyed. I loved the way she licked my foreskin, and fondled my balls while sucking me off. Hmmm. Abruptly, Evelyn stood. I opened my eyes, and started to protest. With an imperious look, she glared at me and I fell silent. Evelyn told me she had a surprise for me. She pulled something out of her bag. My eyes widened when I saw what it was. A strap-on dildo! Evelyn dangled the shiny black sex toy in front of me, then firmly strapped it on. She told me to get ready to get fucked. I nodded, feeling both scared and excited. Evelyn smiled wickedly while spreading my ass cheeks. She took a bottle from the nightstand and sprayed something wet and cold against my ass. Then she pressed the tip of the dildo against my ass. Any last words? Evelyn grimaced. I shook my head. Smiling, she held my legs in the air and pushed the dildo into my ass. That's about when you folks came in, right? At the start of the story, I was on my back, and Evelyn was having her way with me. And that she did. My sexy bossy Nigerian lady shoved the dildo into my ass with a vengeance. She was gentle at first but I assured her that I could take it. I've been playing with my own ass ( always solo) for years. I screamed while getting fucked, mainly because it hurt, but it also felt kind of good. Evelyn really let me have it, pounding my ass and violating me like I'm parole! And you know what? I'd be lying if I said I didn't absolutely love it! I found myself begging her for more. And she gave it to me good, until I begged her to stop. Why did I do that? Well, because I honestly felt like my ass was on fire! Later, I lay in bed next to Evelyn, trying to catch my breath. This was the most intense sexual experience of my twenty five years on this planet. It was an amazing experience. I looked at Evelyn, and there was so much I wanted to say. I wanted to hold her in my arms and thank her. I wanted to discuss my fantasies, and hers. I wanted to tell her what she meant to me. However, before I could do any of the above, she stood up, wished me goodnight, then left. I watched as she walked away, dark brown overcoat over purple pants and boots. A look only she could pull off. I care for this woman. I hope/pray she cares for me. But we don't get along. We clash constantly. Still, I can't quit her. There's something there...If I could figure out why she does what she does and what makes her what she is, I wouldn't be a man, I'd be God. And she wouldn't be Evelyn. So I just accept her for who and what she is, and treasure whatever it is we have. For now. Good night. Black on Black Pegging: Lovers Every time I see her, my heart skips a beat. Here she comes again. The six-foot-tall, gorgeous young Black woman with the dreadlocks and mesmerizing smile. Today she's wearing a blue sweatshirt with the words Carleton University Ravens scrawled all over it, along with bright red sweatpants and Black leather boots. The gal looks like she just left her dorm but she looks better than most of the young women walking around the campus library. On this cold November day in Ottawa, Ontario, I feel...warmth, just from looking at her. Her name is Janine Lansbury. She's in my criminology class, and we sit two rows apart on Tuesday and Thursday afternoons. Of course, she doesn't know that I exist. My name is Clarence Hawkins Jeunesse. I'll be your nerd for the day. I was born and raised in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Last year, I attended Wayne State University in Detroit, Michigan. This year I'm at Carleton University in Ottawa, the Capital of Canada. Spending a year studying abroad seemed like a good idea. Especially given how tough the situation in Detroit has been the past couple of years. Carleton University's criminology program is one of the best in North America. That's why my African-American ass ended up here. I want to attend Wayne State University's School of Law someday but it's kind of tough to get in. I thought they would be impressed by a year of studying abroad. I came to the province of Ontario with high expectations. I had been to Canada couple of times. My family is originally from the Republic of Haiti, though. My father, Edmond Jeunesse and his brother Armand left Haiti in the 1980s. my dad settled in Michigan, married my Haitian-born and naturalized U.S. citizen mother Jasmine Joseph, and had little old me and my brother Harold. As for my uncle, Armand Jeunesse, he left the U.S. for Canada. Uncle Armand moved to Ottawa, Ontario, where he married a Chinese national named Anne Ming Lee and sired my cousins Ashley and Henry. I visited my uncle Armand and his family in Ottawa a few times growing up so I wasn't completely new to the City. I knew my way around the Canadian capital long before I enrolled at Carleton University. Life at school was quite dull, especially since I didn't know anybody. I'm six-foot-one, slightly chubby, and prematurely bald so I keep my head perpetually shaved. My brother Harold, whom I mentioned earlier, is also studying in Canada. He's at the University of Toronto, having a blast. We're both tall and big, but he's got all his hair. Oh, and he recently got engaged to Maeve O'Connor, an Irish chick he met in Ajax, near Toronto. Best of luck to them both. I'm still trying to make my way in the Confederation. Being an American hasn't made my life in Canada any easier. The Canadian government makes you wait for everything. I had to get a study permit and a work permit before I could make my way through the tricky world of work and higher education in Canada. I work at the Call Center of Bell Canada in downtown Ottawa. I'm fluent in French because my parents are both Haitian-American, and taught it to me while we lived in Grand Rapids. I never thought it would come in handy until I moved to Canada. I make decent money at the Call Center. Twenty dollars an hour isn't bad when you're a broke student at Carleton University who's stuck paying international rates because you weren't born and raised in Canada. Like I said, this country isn't exactly kind to ambitious foreigners, especially Americans. You wouldn't pick up on this if you met my friends at Carleton University, though. My buddy Raphael Feinstein was born and raised in the City of Tel Aviv, in the State of Israel. He moved with his mother Anna James Feinstein to Ottawa, Ontario, three and a half years ago. He's still an Israeli national but he's a permanent resident of Canada. That means he's paying regular rates at school instead of national. Isn't life grand for the guy I affectionately refer to as "The Hebrew Rapper". Raphael is tall and thin, with bronze skin, curly Black hair and dark brown eyes. He's in the criminology program too and aspires to become a cop after obtaining Canadian citizenship. Somehow, he is friends with mostly young Black guys and has taken up rapping. I flat out told him that I was clueless about rap music, hip hop and sports the day we met. Growing up, I watched Law & Order a lot and aspired to work enforcement. On top of that, my father worked for the Michigan State Prison System as a Corrections Officer. That didn't win me any points with the other young African-Americans I knew in the City of Grand Rapids, Michigan. Raphael sat next to me that fateful afternoon when Janine Lansbury, the gal of my dreams, came over and asked to borrow my criminology book. Apparently she thought she recognized me from class. Raphael snickered as I stared unblinkingly into Janine's beautiful face while handing over my book. Janine smiled, and introduced herself. Gently I squeezed her hand. I was barely able to make my name exit my mouth. However, it seemed sufficient because Janine got the ball rolling. She cocked an eyebrow and asked me where I came from. I proudly told her that I was born and raised in Grand Rapids, Michigan. Janine smiled, said something about loving Americans and wished me a good day. As I watched her heart-shaped, mesmerizing derriere walk away, Raphael laughed and punched me on the shoulder. He mercilessly teased me about my Urkel-style freezing around beautiful Black women. I gritted my teeth and told him to knock it off. I've always been shy around Black people, especially attractive Black women. African-Americans make up less than twenty percent of the population of Grand Rapids, Michigan, and I lived in a really white area my whole life. I attended Booker T. Washington Academy, a school named after the legendary nineteenth century African-American scholar and politician. There were eleven hundred students at my school when I went there, and ninety percent of them were white. Isn't it ironic that a school named after a Black hero has a mostly white student body? Yeah, welcome to my life. I watched Janine as she went to her seat, in front of the twin computers which she shared with two young Black women. Lord how I wished I could just go over there and talk to her. Unfortunately, shyness has always been a big problem for me. I don't know where I get it from. My parents are both loud, argumentative and passionate people. My brother Harold is mad loud too, as they say in the States. He used to play football for Wayne State University until a scandal involving a blonde-haired cheerleader cost him his spot on the football team. Sometimes, I can't stand my bro because of his womanizing and drinking but there are times when I wish I were more like him. He wouldn't have any problem charming Janine and getting her phone number...if he were into Black chicks, which he's not. Sitting next to me, Raphael browsed his Facebook. He answered a message from Zainab Al-Abdel, a young woman he's been dating. She's originally from Saudi Arabia and dating an Israeli guy, if you can believe that. Apparently, Zainab goes to Algonquin College and works as a stripper on the side to make extra money. I did not know Arab women could be strippers, since the Muslim faith is so conservative and restrictive. Raphael told me that Zainab was an apostate, and considered herself an atheist these days. I found that fascinating. I had certainly never heard of a Saudi woman renouncing Islam but there's a first time for everything. I silently cursed both my best friend Raphael and my brother Harold for having it so easy with women. Feeling thirsty, I went to The Page Break, this small restaurant located inside the Carleton University library. Guess who I ran into in line? It was none other than Janine Lansbury, and she was smiling at me. I smiled shyly and asked her how she was doing. Janine grinned, and told me life was pretty good. I nodded at that, thinking that life must be pretty good if you're a tall, gorgeous young woman who walks around as if the world belonged to her. Seriously, Janine carried herself like an African Queen. In a moment of uncharacteristic boldness, I told her that. Janine smiled, and thanked me. Then she told me she was Jamaican, not African. I smiled nonchalantly at that, but inside I was burning. She was talking to me! Janine asked me how long I'd been at Carleton...and I answered truthfully. We bantered for a few minutes ( it was a long line) until she picked up her order. As I waited for mine, she nudged me on the shoulder and asked me to join her. What do you think I said? That's how I ended up sitting inside The Page Break, having a sandwich and Pepsi with Janine Lansbury. We talked about a lot of stuff. It amazed me how easy it was to talk to her. In my experience with pretty girls of all races, they're usually inaccessible to guys like me. Janine seemed to be the exception to the rule. I noticed Raphael walking by with his cell phone. He noticed me talking to Janine, and gave a thumb up. Janine looked at me questioningly, and I told her that Raphael was one of my buddies. We talked for a while, and I learned a bit more about her. Janine Lansbury was born in the town of Chapelton, Jamaica, and moved to the town of Ottawa, Ontario, with her parents about eleven years ago. She transferred to Carleton University from the University of Ottawa, which she genuinely hated because of the way the French-Canadian student majority treated those they called 'les Anglos'. Wow. There was a story there and I wanted to hear it but Janine seemed in no rush to reveal it. However, she seemed to enjoy my company. We were finishing our meal and she was looking at her watch. Uh oh. Trouble. I had to make a move, and fast. I asked her for her email address, and she raised a questioning eyebrow. Grinning, she told me that she hardly checked her email these days but her cell phone worked just fine. I smiled, and took her number. Grinning, she wished me the best of luck during my stay in Canada and went back to her seat. I watched her as she went back to her study buddies. Wow. What a woman! When I went back to my seat, Raphael was all smiles. Way to go, brother! Yep, that's what he said. I tried to smile casually, but inside I felt like jumping up and down. Before I could continue with the criminology assignment I'd been working on, I got a text from Janine saying hey. I promptly replied. Moments later, she was right in front of me. Janine thanked me for letting her use my book, then handed me a flyer. It contained information, something about the Black Students Alliance of Carleton University. They were having a meeting this afternoon inside Oliver's Restaurant on campus. I nodded and pocketed it. Janine smiled, told me to come check it out and then hastily kissed me on the cheek. I grinned so broadly my face hurt. With that, Janine walked away. She left the library with her friends. Raphael clapped me on the shoulder, and told me I was in like Flynn. I looked at my favorite ( and only) Hebrew rapper. What the heck was he talking about? Raphael laughed, and told me that women definitely did NOT kiss guys they just met unless they had some interest in them. He wished me luck with Janine, then grabbed his stuff. He had his Criminal Law class to get to. I watched my best buddy go. I think he's got a pretty good point. My face burned warmly where Janine had kissed me. Hot damn. I'm definitely going after her! I went back to my apartment near the Saint Laurent Mall, showered and shaved before going back to campus at seven o'clock. I stepped into Oliver's. The place was full, and it took me a while to find Janine and her group. I found them on the plush couches near the entrance. Janine smiled warmly at me, and gave me a quick hug. I smiled and thanked her for inviting me. Janine introduced me to her friends. Let's see. There was a short, light-skinned Black chick with short hair whom I often saw at the library. Sherry Vincent, originally from Trinidad and currently living in Canada. A tall, skinny Black guy with a Muslim cap on his head. Abdullah Anwar, originally from Somaliland. A tall, muscular Black chick with cornrows and a decidedly masculine swagger to her style. Erica Russell, formerly of Buffalo, New York. A chubby, light-skinned Black guy with reddish hair and gray eyes. Matthew Simpson, originally from Houston, Texas. Djamal Abdirahman, originally from Ethiopia. Nicole Basilica, a tall, curvy sister with medium brown skin and a shaved head. A native of Toronto, Ontario. Along with Janine, they formed the Black Students Alliance of Carleton University. B.S.A.C.U. Janine Lansbury captivated me throughout the meeting. The sister had presence, intelligence and charm. She boldly stated the goals of the group, which were to encourage Black students of both sexes toward higher education and other positive endeavors. How could I disagree with that? I mean, I've seen so many African-American students, especially males, lose interest in anything beyond high school. It deeply saddened me. Young Black males living in America lived in constant fear of reprisal from racist cops and the discrimination against us was systemic. However, young Black males living in Canada had it easier. Higher education was more accessible to Black men in Canada, yet few of them went to College or University. You rarely heard of racist cops shooting Black guys in Canada, or Black men getting thrown out of clubs by bigoted bouncers and such. Black Canadian men had it easier. If they wanted to improve their lives, all they had to do was get their degrees from Canada's numerous Colleges and Universities and the world would be theirs. They didn't have to stay in Canada after getting their University degrees. Plenty of opportunity to be found in places like America, Australia, New Zealand and the United Kingdom. All Black Canadian men had to do was go to school, stay out of trouble and stop wasting time. It's not that complicated. If you're Black and male in Canada, you can avoid trouble and actually make it. If you're Black and male in America, trouble comes looking for you and avoiding it is like dodging raindrops. Impossible. I agreed with Janine Lansbury's aims, and told her I would happily help her with the group. I can't thank her enough for creating the B.S.A.C.U. We needed such a club at Carleton University. On campus we got a lot of Black students from places like Haiti, Cuba, Brazil, America, Ethiopia, Nigeria, Congo, South Africa, Jamaica, Trinidad and other places but they're not united. Janine and I walked together after the meeting. We talked about a lot of things, including how wonderful it would be if Black students put aside their differences and united against racism and institutional discrimination. White people have always united. In Grand Rapids, the Jews, Italians, Irish and Scots didn't always get along but they banded together to control the town. By sharp contrast the African-Americans, Mexicans and Chinese didn't stick together. When minorities stick together they become a majority. Time for the Black students at Carleton University to get over their silly differences such as who's Christian and who's Muslim, or who's from what part of Africa. To Caucasians, we were all lumped together as 'the others'. That was my reasoning behind my support for the idea of Black student unity. Janine totally agreed with it. I walked her back to her on-campus apartment, and we parted ways with a handshake and a kiss on the cheek. I went back to my apartment filling thrilled. Over the next few weeks, Janine and I got to know each other way better. For starters, we began dating. My good friend Raphael loaned me his Porsche and I took her to a concert in Toronto. We had a blast. While in Toronto, I introduced Janine to my brother Harold and his girlfriend Maeve. We had a nice time together. For once, I wasn't the solitary tagalong while my brother the stud walked around with a hot chick. Harold's fiancée Maeve was five-foot-ten, slim, with blonde hair and blue eyes. She was good-looking, but she couldn't touch my Janine. At six feet, with a firm body, cute face and gorgeous heart-shaped ass, Janine was a goddess. And she knew it. We had a blast together though. I went back to Ottawa with my lady in my arms. How cool is that? I soon found out that Janine was a superwoman in every way, especially all things sensual. We made love for the first time our first night back from Toronto. The lady laid me on her king-sized bed, and licked every inch of me. We got in the sixty nine position and she sucked my cock with gusto while I eagerly licked and fingered her pussy. While sucking on my seven and a half inches of fairly thick, uncircumcised Black dick, Janine fingered my asshole. After noticing how much I liked it, she replaced her finger with a slim purple dildo. Amazingly, my dick got harder with her dildo up my ass. So much that Janine climbed on top of me and impaled her wet pussy on my hard dick after promptly putting a condom on me. I held her by the hips as I thrust my member deep inside of her. Janine got really loud as we made love for the first time. We fucked like there was no tomorrow, with me sucking on her tits and smacking her big ass as we did our thing. Much later, she treated me to a naughty delight by jerking me off while sliding the dildo deep into my ass. I came like never before, man. When all was said and done, I stared at my lady, astonished after the sensual experience of a lifetime. Janine laughed at my shocked expression and told me she knew anal stimulation would get me off. I smiled. It's always good to try new things. Janine promised we'd try her strap-on dildo the next day and I just can't wait. We fell asleep in each other's arms. Life is alright for the Michigan brother living in Ontario, my friends. I thought life in Canada would suck but it doesn't. I'm actually enjoying my life in Ottawa. I've got my Janine by my side. Things are going great at Carleton University. Honestly, life just couldn't be better. Canada has been good to my love life ( for starters I have one now ) and my academic life. It's a really great country. More African-Americans should visit, especially in Ontario. Peace out, my people. Got to catch some Z's before class tomorrow. Black on Black Pegging: Married I am mad as hell and my husband doesn't seem to understand. I don't like it when he plays with my dildos without permission. I came home to find him lying on our bed, butt-ass naked, stroking his big chocolate dick while shoving a pink dildo up his hairy ass. Kelvin Sainte-Guillaume! I exclaimed. I hate it when men act without thinking with anything other than their cocks. What if I hadn't come home alone from work? What if I had one of my friends with me? Dumb move, hubby dearest. You acted without thinking and now I've got to make you pay for it. My name is Carol Jeunesse. Five feet eleven inches tall, with dark brown skin, a curvy body, wide hips and a big butt. That's me. People say I look a bit like Hollywood starlet Jill Scott only taller, darker and louder. I'm the Special Services Director of The Ontario Multicultural Outreach Coalition. A think tank that helps people from continental Africa, the Middle East, the Caribbean, Latin America and Asia adjust to life in the Capital region of Canada. I got hired by them right after graduating from the University of Ottawa with my MBA in the summer of 2010. Almost three years later, I've risen among the ranks of this organization which has twelve hundred employees throughout the Province of Ontario. With locations in cities like Toronto, Ottawa, London, Hamilton and Windsor. We're growing in numbers and just received a ten-million-dollar grant from the federal government. We help immigrants get on their feet and steer them toward employment and independence and away from a life of crime. I think that's a good job, don't you? Yeah, I do alright for myself as a Black woman in the Confederation of Canada. I was born in the City of Cap-Haitien in the Republic of Haiti and raised in the City of Montreal, Quebec. My father Eugene Jeunesse is a cab driver who moonlights as a barber shop owner and my mother Helene Baptiste Jeunesse is a librarian. They moved to Canada from Haiti when I was real young. I barely remember the island of Haiti and consider myself Canadian through and true. Growing up in the town of Montreal in Quebec, I developed a fascination with French Canadian men. They're really something else. I went to prom with a blond-haired, green-eyed guy from the town of Laval. Yeah, I liked them French guys. Until one of them broke my heart. I'm referring of course to Antoine Tremblay. A tall, sexy white guy with red hair and gray eyes. We met at the University of Ottawa. I moved to the town of Ottawa to study because there were too many distractions in metropolitan Montreal. Antoine was good-looking and a smooth talker. I fell in love with him. We got married while we were both twenty two. The marriage lasted six months. Antoine neglected to tell me that he was a rude, inconsiderate, mean-spirited bastard whose long list of bad habits included drinking, sleeping around, and smacking women around when he got mad. I divorced him and took a restraining order against him. After that, I swore off white men. Seriously, they seem like knights in shining armour at first but they're nothing but trouble. They're just better at hiding it than men of other races. Anyhow, while I was in my first year in the MBA program at the University of Ottawa I met this charming Black guy named Kelvin Saint-Guillaume. He was born in the town of Petit-Goave in the Republic of Haiti, and moved to the City of Boston, Massachusetts, with his family while still in his youth. He attended Boston University, and graduated with a bachelor's degree in business administration. He came to live with his uncle Mathieu in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, after getting into some trouble with his ex-girlfriend's family in Massachusetts. Apparently, Kelvin was once engaged to this Italian-American gal named Nicole Brigida and her family didn't like him. They didn't want their precious daughter marrying a Black guy. When Nicole broke off their engagement mere days before they were supposed to get married, Kelvin went nuts. He apparently got into a fight with Nicole's bigoted older brother Eric and Eric's buddy Lincoln, who always carried a torch for Nicole. The brawl landed Kelvin in the slammer for a weekend. When he came out, he swore off white women. He didn't need the drama that these pale she-devils brought into a brother's life. Um, his words, not mine. When I first met Kelvin, I didn't know what to make of him. The six-foot-three, lean and wiry young Black man with the body of an Olympic athlete had a cute face and an easy smile. I had never really felt attracted to a Black man until I met him. Black guys in Canada don't bother with Black women so a lot of us don't bother with them. However, Kelvin was different. He walked around with a T-shirt that said BLACK LOVE. On it were pictures of famous Black couples like U.S. President Obama and his wife Michelle, along with actor Will Smith and Jada Pinkett-Smith. I was mightily impressed. I was kind of puzzled by Kelvin because the local brothers were allergic to Black pussy. They chase White pussy like it's oxygen. I asked around and found out a bit about Kelvin the Magnificent, as he called himself. He was newly enrolled in the MBA program at Carleton University in the south end of Ottawa, Ontario. The brother was a naturalized citizen of America come to sample what Canada had to offer. Well, after seeing him walking shirtless through the Rideau Shopping Center, I was determined to give this sexy Haitian-American brother a piece of my homemade pie. If you know what I mean. I went out with Kelvin, and I guess dinner and a movie turned into more dates, followed by moving in together, an eventful engagement and a happy marriage. Yeah. We got married eight months after I divorced Antoine Tremblay. Yes, I know. Seems kind of fast but when it feels right, you just KNOW. My girlfriends were quite surprised to see me marry a Black guy from America after shunning Black Canadian guys for white men of French Canadian descent all my life. I guess people do change. Yeah, I married Kelvin. The handsome brother from Boston. He's decided to stay in Canada to be with me. He's about to become a permanent resident of Canada thanks to my filing for him. I think he's going to love it here. The City of Ottawa is much quieter than metropolitan Boston but we're a promising town with a lot to offer. Kelvin and I get along wonderfully. Both in and out of bed. We're that well-dressed, lovely Black couple you see waltzing into church every Sunday. We attend the All Nations Full Gospel Church in the south end of Ottawa. Not far from the town of Orleans, where we recently bought a condo. My only problem with my hubby dearest? His anal addiction! I love anal sex. I love going home, getting naked, sucking my man's dick and then have him shove it up my ass while riding him real hard. I love having Kelvin's dick in my mouth, pussy and asshole. However, I find his fetish for strap-on dildos a bit much. As a good wife, I try to accommodate him but seriously, it's getting to be a bit much. Like today. I just caught my man shoving one of my dildos up his ass. What am I supposed to do about it? Obviously he's got to be punished but how do you punish someone who gets off on both physical and psychological pain? I honestly don't know. That's why I'm bending Kelvin over right now and ordering the fool to spread his ass cheeks wide open. Ready or not, bitch, mama is coming inside! I sprayed lubricant all over Kelvin's asshole, then pressed my strap-on dildo against his puckered asshole. Gently, I eased my dildo inside. Kelvin groaned as I began fucking him. I smiled to myself and smacked his ass while thrusting my dildo deeper inside of him. If that's what he wants, then that's what he will get from me. Happily I sodomized my publicly macho but privately submissive husband with my thick strap-on dildo. His screams filled our condo. I laughed and continued smacking his ass as I fucked him. Ah, the things a Black woman does for love. Black on Black Pegging: Maryland Don't call me Mistress! That's not my name, you damn fool! I am your Ebony Goddess! Shaking my head, I smacked my sub's hairy Black ass as I thrust my strap-on dildo deeper inside of him. Macho man Frantz Marchand groaned as I continued stretching his ass. Hmm. I love fucking men in the ass with my strap-on dildo. Especially men of African descent. Frantz Marchand thinks he's tough shit because he grew up in the area of Montreal-Nord, Province of Quebec. Whatever. Canadian or American or whatever, a Black man is a Black man. I top them all. My name is Naomi Reginald-Jones and I'm the Ebony Goddess of Prince George's County, State of Maryland. The toughest African-American dominatrix in the game. Word up, son! As I sink the dildo deeper inside Frantz, I pinch his cock and balls. I always research my subs before accepting them. Frantz lives in Maryland but he is originally from Canada. Oh, and he's biracial, born to a French Canadian mother and Haitian father. He's got an MBA from Concordia University in the City of Montreal, Province of Quebec, and does a lot of business for the Excelsior Corporation out here in the United States. Like a lot of Black Canadian men, he's fascinated by us African-American ladies. I honestly can't blame him for feeling us because we're fine as hell, aren't we my sisters? I definitely look the part of a dominatrix. I'm five-foot-eleven, slim and fit, with dark brown skin, curves in the right places, killer legs, and a nice rack. And I've also got a nice, heart-shaped ass. What they call a ghetto booty around these parts. I'm a graduate of Bowie State University's MBA program and presently I teach business ethics at the University of Maryland in College Park. That's my day job. At night, I moonlight as a professional dominatrix. The one and only Ebony Goddess. I like my day job but I simply LOVE my other job. If I could, I'd work as a professional dominatrix twenty-four seven. For real. It's the one thing I do that brings me the utmost joy. With a song in my heart, I pulled the dildo out of Frantz Marchand's ass. The light-skinned Black man from Montreal-Nord gasped in surprise. I ordered him to change positions. I want him to lie on his back with his legs in the air. Why? Simply because I want to look into his eyes as I happily sodomize him with my strap-on dildo. The dildo I'm fucking Frantz Marchand with is modeled after the penis of legendary African-American porn actor Mister Marcus. It's thick, shiny and black. I dip into the vat of lubricant before sliding it once more into Frantz's asshole. Frantz grits his teeth, his handsome features twisted in concentration as he tries desperately not to scream as I resume fucking him. I smile wickedly and thrust forward, shoving the dildo deeper inside of him. Let's see if I can make this macho man squeal like a little bitch. Gently but firmly I push the dildo deep inside Frantz's asshole, until I've got nowhere else to go. Oh, man. I think I've hit the man's prostate. Frantz stares at me, gasping soundlessly. His eyes are wide, his face is sweaty and he's speechless. Dude looks disoriented, stunned and shocked. I smile at him beatifically. Yes, my brother. You're having trouble looking me in the eyes and I think I know why. I am the fine sister who's sodomizing you with her strap-on dildo. If you're speechless right now it's because I've done to your ass things you didn't even know were possible. Can I make a strong brother from Canada scream? Yes I can! Frantz finally screams and it's a beautiful sound, ladies and gentleman. A primal scream that fills my condo. I'm not worried about what the neighbors will say because they're used to it by now. All kinds of men come to my makeshift dungeon to be dominated and I turn them from macho men into whimpering little bitches, to the tune of three hundred bucks per hourly session. Holding Frantz's legs firmly in the air, I lean closer and basically swing my tits all over his face. My way of teasing a brother. He's forbidden from touching me. I continue sodomizing him. Man, I really enjoy this. My pussy is all wet with excitement as I continue pounding my strap-on dildo into this fine Canadian brother's ass. I love fucking men in the ass. Women are boring and I hardly ever play with them, although I consider myself flexible when it comes to sexual encounters. I've had sex with a couple of girls and it was fun but I prefer men. Especially Black men. In the world of BDSM, Black men and Black women unfortunately avoid each other. Black male submissive types seek out dominant women of other races. Black dominatrix types seek submissive men of other races. It's rare to see a dominant Black master with a Black female submissive or a dominant Black woman with a submissive Black male. We don't play with each other in BDSM unfortunately. And that saddens me because in my heart and in my soul I believe that Black on Black is where it's at. That's why I relish every time I have the pleasure of breaking in a new Black male submissive. Frantz here came to me because he was curious about Black female domination. Frantz mainly dated Black women but the ladies in his life weren't very open-minded sexually. They would question his sexuality if he told them he was into chicks with strap-on dildos. That saddens me because I know many Black women with such a narrow mindset when it comes to male sexuality. I don't think a man is gay or bisexual if he's into women with strap-on dildos. I think a man is gay or bisexual if he has full-blown sex with another man. Not just kisses or hand-jobs or blowjobs but the whole kit and caboodle. Dick everywhere, dick in the ass, that sort of thing. Anyhow, that's my take on the whole thing. Joyfully I smacked Frantz across the face, spat on him and pinched his nipples, cock and balls as I hammered his ass with my strap-on dildo. After pounding him for the better part of an hour, I pulled out. I unstrapped my dildo, and dangled it inches from Frantz face. I ordered him to suck it, and he did. I smiled, looking at this Black Canadian man as he sucked my dildo. Just like a good slut should. We concluded the session after that. I let him take a shower before leaving the premises. I always feel great after a session. Nothing like dominating a man to make a woman feel good. I had myself a cigarette and turned on the tube after Frantz left. I think I'll watch an episode of Real Housewives of Atlanta on BET. Yeah, just like so many of you, I can't get enough of them silly bitches. Black On Black Pegging: Mean Girl Call me Madame Noire. My government name is Crystal Bernardotte but nobody calls me that. For as long as I've been alive, I enjoyed inflicting pain on me. I don't know why. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that I became a professional dominatrix. I embraced this side of myself after suffering several setbacks in both my personal life and my professional life. It's not easy being a Black woman in the Continent of North America, ladies and gentlemen. If somebody tells you it's easy, then they are most definitely lying through their teeth. Add to that the fact that I emigrated to Canada from the Cap-Haitien Region of the Republic of Haiti in the late 1990s and you'll realize why life up north is so tough for me. I'm an island gal in the Great White North. What could go wrong? I always made the best of what I got no matter where I happened to be. My family moved to the Province of Ontario from Northern Haiti to seek a better life. Us Haitians are a supremely adaptable bunch. That's why there are so many of us in the States, Canada and even the United Kingdom and Australia. Once in Canada, I focused on work and higher education, and I still hope it will someday pay off. I recently graduated from Carleton University in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario, with a Bachelor's degree in Criminology. I applied to the University of Ottawa Law School but the bozos turned me down. Bunch of fascists. Lucky for me, I got into the Sprott School of Business at Carleton University. The way I figure it, an MBA is a useful thing to have in this lousy economy. With it, I can work for just about any company. With a Law degree, there would be the dreaded bar exam to worry about. Also, I'd be bound to the region of Ontario as a lawyer, and I don't like being tied down to anyplace. Or anyone, really. I'm back in school at the tender age of twenty six, and life is alright, I guess. Behold the heroine of this tale. I stand five feet eleven inches tall, curvy, with dark brown skin and long, neatly braided Black hair. People say I look like tennis legend Serena Williams but I disagree. That bitch looks like me, I don't look like her. Also, I'm taller than her, I think. I found a way to make some money while going back to school full-time. I became a professional dominatrix, as I said before. I built a website, and took numerous pictures of myself wearing Black leather outfits and cracking the whip. I always wore a mask on these pictures. Always. I have to protect my identity, you know. Can't work as an executive for a big company in the City of Toronto in Ontario or the town of Calgary in Alberta if everybody knows exactly what kind of freak I happen to be. Corporations are full of freaks but discretion is a must. I set up the website, and clients started emailing me. I've dealt with many men and a few women since I set up the website at the end of the summer of 2011. It's early 2012 now and the money is rolling in. I wish to tell you about one of my most memorable clients. Michael Bairn. A six-foot-one, lean and wiry young man with light brown skin, curly Black hair and pale grayish eyes. The son of an Irish father and Jamaican mother. Born and raised in the City of Galway in Ireland. He's an international student at Carleton University and I must say, he was one seriously beautiful man. Like a lot of Black guys, he's fascinated by bossy Black women and you know Black women don't get any bossier than me. I replied to Michael's email, and we agreed to meet in my dungeon for an initiation session. Michael Bairn showed up at my Vanier apartment bright and early one Sunday morning. I must say the brother looked even better in person, though he had emailed me pictures of himself a couple of days before. As soon as I saw him, I smiled and welcomed him inside. Then I tested him immediately. I like to know what kind of man I am dealing with, you know? I smiled coolly and ordered Michael to kiss my feet. Right after he came into my place. Michael did as he was told without hesitation. His warm lips gently kissed my feet. I smiled. He's nice and obedient. Good. I went to grab my toys, and ushered Michael into my opulent boudoir. I ordered him to get undressed, and admired this sexy Black man as he got naked. I love Black men, no matter how trying they may be. I've dated some White guys and while they were really nice, they didn't light my fire. When it comes to passion and sexuality, I like Black on Black. Black women and Black men have trouble getting along these days but I still believe in Black Love. I think Black men and Black women got enough raw passion and sensuality to start a fire going on under water. Too bad we often irritate the hell out of each other! Hmmm. Maybe that's part of the fun. I ordered Michael to kneel before me and the sexy Black stud did as he was told. He sucked my toes, and did everything I told him. When I bent him over and gave his sexy ass a good spanking, he took it without screaming. Good. When I tied up his dick and painfully tugged on his balls, he groaned a bit but didn't scream. Good. I fingered his asshole after putting gloves on and he seemed a bit hesitant. Nice. Having sensed a weakness, I became determined to exploit it. I told Michael I was going to fuck him in the ass. And I did just that. I lubricated his asshole, then put on my shiny blue strap-on dildo. I bent Michael over, face down and ass up. Then I spread his ass cheeks wide open, spat on his asshole and pressed my blue dildo against his anal opening. I prepared myself to boldly go where no Black woman has gone before. Up this Black stud's ass with a strap-on dildo. Man, I feel like an explorer! So explore I did. I pushed the dildo into Michael's asshole, and the light-skinned Black stud groaned as I penetrated him. I gripped his hips tightly and worked the dildo into his ass. Michael didn't scream as I fucked him in the ass with my strap-on dildo. Nope. Screaming is too masculine-sounding. Michael squealed like a little bitch as I fucked him. I fucked his ass, thrusting my dildo deep inside the forbidden depths of his asshole. I fucked him until he cried. We're talking real tears here, folks. Water works and everything. And to really top things off, I removed the dildo from Michael's ass and made him suck it. And he did as he was told just like the bitch he is. Isn't that awesome? I can't wait to fuck another Black man with my dildo. Who's next, brothers? Line up starts here! Black on Black Pegging: Muslim The root of all problems in the Black community isn't the White man. Black people have got to stop playing victim and accept responsibility for their actions. My name is Christina Xavier. A tall young Black woman living in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. I hold a Journalism degree from the University of Toronto, and presently, I'm doing an investigation in the socio-economic issues of the Black Canadian community. That's why I'm in Vanier right now. This area is mainly populated by Black and Middle-Eastern people, and let's just say that they're not exactly the wealthiest segment of society in Canada's capital region. Perfect environment for our expose, don't you think? Today, I shall focus on the Somali community of Vanier, Province of Ontario. Of all the immigrant groups in the Canadian capital, Somalians are the most controversial. Many people come to Canada and settle into ordinary, peaceful lives. The French and English did it in the seventeenth century and of course the eighteenth century. The Dutch and the Irish came later. The Haitians came to Canada in the 1950s and settled in the Province of Quebec, primarily the City of Montreal and its outlying areas. The Jamaicans, the Chinese and the Hispanics came to Ontario in the late 1970s and early 1980s. They settled primarily in the City of Toronto and surrounding areas. The Somalis are everywhere in Canada, yet they're also the one group that nobody else seems to like. Even Black immigrants from the Caribbean and sub-Saharan Africa can't stand these guys and gals. Why is that? To answer these questions, I'm visiting a traditional Somali immigrant household in Vanier. Ninety nine percent of all Somalis are practicing Muslims, and as you well know, Islam is a deeply patriarchal religion which places men at the top and women at the very bottom. Aziz is the head of the Abdullah family. He's a tall, slim man with light brown skin and curly Black hair. Aziz moved to the City of Ottawa, Ontario, from the City of Mogadishu in Somaliland eight years ago. Presently, he doesn't work. He has a recreational facilities management degree from Algonquin College in Nepean, Ontario. Whatever that means. Aziz seems to mainly spend his time sitting on his ass at home, watching television, playing poker with Somali male friends and smoking weed. His wife Fatima is the one who pays the bills. She works as a cashier at Wal-Mart during the day and studies at La Cite Collegiale during the evenings. She's in the Police Foundations program at this French-Canadian college and hopes to become a police officer someday. Fatima has been in Canada for four and a half years now. She's counting the days till she becomes a citizen of this great country. I was quite happy to meet with Fatima Abdullah when we first met. She's around five-foot-eight, kind of chubby, with dark brown skin and lively light brown eyes. Fatima was born in the City of Assamo in the Republic of Djibouti but considers herself one hundred percent Somali. Of all the Somali women I've interviewed for this piece, she's the one I admire the most. This is a woman who definitely proves that women can do it all. She's been in the Confederation of Canada for a much shorter amount of time than her husband Aziz, yet she learned English and French faster than he did. Aziz speaks barely intelligible English with a thick Somali language. I wonder if it's because of his drinking. Whatever. Fatima works hard to pay the bills, and she's also supporting herself through college. I have a lot of respect and admiration for this quiet and self-effacing hijab-wearing Somali sister. She is a very pious person who prays five times a day. Also, she's very friendly and open-minded. I find her truly admirable. How she got saddled with a drunken loser like Aziz for a husband, only the fates know. That's why I don't believe in arranged marriages. Women are always the ones who suffer in these deals. Fatima Abdullah and Aziz have a rocky relationship, to say the least. She encourages him to get out there and try to get a job. Aziz does go out there to try to get a job. He tries all kinds of seminars with the Ottawa Social Services Department. He's at their Baseline Station Office at least once a week, speaking to his social worker about whatever imaginary complaint he's got. He tries to get a job and they give him money. He wastes it drinking and sleeping around. Fatima won't admit it but I'm sure he smacks her around sometimes. I can't help but shake my head at the sadness of this situation. Fatima Abdullah is a remarkable woman saddled with a lousy man. This lady is a devout Muslim who doesn't believe in divorce. I feel so bad for her and other Somali Muslim women like her. What can be done about their condition? Even while living in Canada, they cling to the old ways of life in Somaliland. Somali men know this very well and they use that to control Somali women. Such a sad state of the affairs, ladies and gentlemen. I have decided to break my oath of non-interference as a journalist to remediate what I see to be an intolerable situation. I decided to equip Fatima Abdullah to take down her tormentor. I took her to this adult video store near the Rideau Shopping Center in downtown Ottawa, Ontario. She was amazed at what I showed her, especially the manifold sex toys and adult videos. She was especially fascinated by the female domination videos featuring bossy women sodomizing weak and submissive men with strap-on dildos. I bought several for her, along with restraints, condoms and lubricant. Then, like a proud teacher, I sent forth my prized new pupil on a mission. I told her to right the wrongs done to Somali women by Somali men since time immemorial. And she promised me she would do so happily. The next day, I got a text message from Fatima Abdullah urging me and the rest of the camera crew to come to her residence in Vanier toot sweet. We drove there without delay. Once we got there, we were in for a shock. We found Aziz bound and gagged, lying on his back, completely naked on the Abdullah household bed. Standing over him, a mad light in her eyes, was none other than Fatima. In her right hand she held a blade. With the left hand she stroked a scary-looking shiny ebony strap-on dildo. She barked something in Somali at Aziz, and when he didn't respond, she moved the blade closer to his genitals. The tall Somali male went pale with fright, and did as he was told. He raised his legs and his ass in the air, exposing his rear end. Fatima smiled nastily, and stroked the dildo. Then she pressed it against Aziz's asshole, and pushed it inside. I'll never forget the Somali man's scream as Fatima penetrated his asshole with the strap-on dildo. Fatima smacked Aziz's ass as she began fucking him with the dildo. Aziz howled as his ass took the pounding of a lifetime. The crew and I watched this spectacle, mesmerized. Fatima was really cutting loose. She called Aziz every name in the book. The Somali guy howled, squealed and whimpered. Mercilessly she slammed the dildo into his asshole. This was more than a pegging session. Every time Fatima thrust the dildo into Aziz's asshole, legions of Somali women from the past cheered from beyond the grave. And I was cheering right along with them. This was a moment of sisterhood, for real! After fucking Aziz with the strap-on dildo for about an hour, Fatima finally pulled out of him. We had the whole thing on camera. Fatima locked eyes with Aziz and assured him that unless he changed his ways, got a job and learned to OBEY his wife instead of dictating to her like a typical Muslim male, his shame would be exposed on the internet. Also, if anything happened to Fatima, not only would he go to jail forever, to get fucked in the ass by xenophobic big White guys, but his shame would still be leaked on the web. Fatima and I exchanged a sisterly hug, then I left. The next time I visited, we had a nice dinner. One prepared by Aziz. He's working as a security guard now. Fatima tells me that he's working now, has changed his ways and is starting to behave like a caring hubby should. But she STILL fucks his ass with her biggest strap-on dildo three times a day. Good for her! Black on Black Pegging : New Year! I think I look really sexy wearing my strap-on dildo, I thought to myself as I admired my reflection in the mirror. A curvy, dark-skinned young Black woman with dreadlocks stared back at me defiantly. That's me, Victoria Adewale, a Nigerian woman living in the City of Ottawa, province of Ontario. My family moved to Canada from Kano City, Northern Nigeria, in 2003. Ten years later, we're doing alright. I'm working as a professional dominatrix while wrapping up my MBA at Carleton University, my older brother Kingsley is a corrections officer in Kingston, Ontario, and our parents, Joseph and Maryam Adewale are enjoying their new house in Oakville, Ontario. Life just couldn't be any better! I turn around and look at my slave, a burly African-American guy named Tyson Hauser. I smile cockily and ask him if he's ready for me. Tyson nods, and I order him to get on his knees. The Black male slut obeys me, the dominant Black goddess, just like he should. I walk up to him and order him to suck my cock. The big Black guy puckers his lips and sucks on my shiny Black dildo. I love topping big Black guys like Tyson Hauser, because I am not exactly big myself. I love having power over those who are bigger and stronger than me. I stand five feet five inches tall and weigh one hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet. Nothing I love more than to show people that I can be a real fury in spite of being a half pint! I smack Tyson's face and berate him while he's sucking on my strap-on dildo just like the slut he is. Black male submissive types like Tyson gravitate to dominant Black women like myself. I guess it's true what they say, opposites attract. After making Tyson suck on my strap-on dildo, I spanked his pasty Black ass until it turned a nice shade of red, then I spread his ass cheeks. I whispered into the big Black man's ear that I was ready to fuck him in the ass. I lubricated his hole with some Aloe cream, then eased the condom-covered strap-on dildo into his ass. I held Tyson's hips tightly as I began pounding his ass with my dildo. Tyson groaned as I fucked him, and I smacked his ass. Let's see if I can get some screams out of this Black male bitch. I sank the strap-on dildo deep into the big guy's ass, and at last Tyson Hauser screamed. I love making big strong Black men scream like little bitches. I shoved the strap-on dildo so deep inside Hauser's asshole, I think his ancestors in the United States must have felt it. His scream of pain mixed with anguish and bittersweet pleasure was beautiful music to those ears of mine. I flipped Hauser on his back because I wanted to look into the Black man's eyes as he got sodomized by a tiny but ferocious Black woman wielding a strap-on dildo with skill and authority. And so I did. I looked into Hauser's eyes and saw many things, from the exultation of pleasure to the agony of defeat. And I absolutely love every moment of it! I pulled the strap-on dildo out of Hauser's asshole, added more lubricant and then shoved it back inside. Hauser squealed as I resumed fucking his ass. I grabbed his short, thick cock and squeezed his balls really hard while pumping the dildo into his dirt box. Hauser howled and begged for mercy. I fucked his ass with gusto, pounding it really hard. Before we got down and dirty, I ran over some basic rules with Hauser. Such as the use of safe words. Our safe word is red, and until he says the word red, I don't care how much he screams, I'm going to fuck his ass with my dildo like butt fucking is going out of style! That's exactly what I did, and Hauser must have liked it too because his little cock got really hard. Why do guys get hard whenever I fuck them in the ass with my strap-on dildos? Must be the prostate stimulation factor, I think. I took my belt and proceeded to whip Hauser with it while fucking his ass with my strap-on dildo. He howled as I struck his face, his chest and even his balls with my ebony leather belt. I love to make a big man scream like a little bitch. Feeling a special spark of inspiration, I grabbed Hauser's cock and balls, and twisted them anew. This time, the sound that came out of his lips was more than a scream or a squeal. It absolutely stunned me, because it sounded a lot like a death rattle. I stopped temporarily, and asked Hauser if he was okay. Hauser nodded, and told me that he felt great, then he urged me to continue. I was hesitant, to tell you the truth. I've seen stuff on the news about freak accidents resulting in weird, kinky deaths in BDSM scenarios gone wrong. I don't want to be that BDSM mistress you see being hauled away in handcuffs by the police on the news because she got accused of killing a sub during a session gone bad. Not me, thank you. Tyson Hauser looked me in the eyes and told me to resume fucking his ass. He thought he could handle whatever I threw at him. I nodded, and did just that. If he wants me to break him, then who am I to disagree? I raised Tyson's big legs in the air and thrust my dildo deep into his ass. I resumed slamming my strap-on dildo up his ass and didn't stop until I saw real agony in his face as tears pooled from his eyes. That's when he yelled the safe word as loud as he could. Only then did I pull out of his ass. I fixed a collar around Tyson's neck while he lay there, panting. He's officially my slave now. For life. I told Tyson that from now on, he was my slave. He nodded obediently, and told me he welcomed serving a dominant Black mistress like myself. I don't usually deal with Black men in the world of BDSM because they can't seem to take instruction from a Black mistress. They top from the bottom, they play games and they have trouble submitting. I told Tyson that I was giving him one chance to be my sub and one chance only. If he screwed up, he was a dead man. Tyson nodded, then gently kissed my feet. I smiled. Victory is mine today. Black on Black Pegging: Nigeria Gary Jean-Renald lay on the bed, panting. Standing over him, Mistress Stella Aziz stroked her strap-on dildo and smiled smugly. The moment of truth had come. Time for Gary to lose his virginity. Mistress Stella raised the handsome Black stud's legs in the air and spread his ass cheeks wide open. Gently, she applied lubricant all over his anus before pushing the dildo against his backdoor. Gary took a deep breath, and tensed a little. Mistress Stella gently pushed the dildo into him. The gorgeous Nigerian-born African dominatrix licked her full, exquisite lips as she began fucking her latest toy in the ass. Black men in North America were so different from the African men she grew up with her hometown of Kano, in the Republic of Nigeria. These brothers were uptight and narrow-minded. Brothers from North America had open minds and in the case of Gary Jean-Renald, wide open asses. Grinning, she began fucking him earnestly. Gary Jean-Renald winced as Mistress Stella began pounding his ass with the strap-on dildo. The king-sized bed shook as the towering, dark-skinned and absolutely gorgeous Nigerian woman topped the handsome young Black man. At last, Gary's dream was coming true. For years he dreamed of what it would be like to experience the forbidden pleasures of female domination. Gary Jean-Renald discovered BDSM and its uniqueness when he was merely eighteen. Three years later, he finally began exploring it. The young ladies he met at his school weren't really interested in this sort of thing. Most of them were into vanilla sex. Gary Jean-Renald, President of the Christian Students Association at Algonquin College in Ottawa, Ontario, had a craving for unconventional sex. He wanted to submit to a strong woman. He wanted to experience the joys of female domination as a male submissive. Unfortunately, ladies who were into this seemed hard to find. Mistress Stella Aziz looked into Gary Jean-Renald's eyes as she filled his asshole with her strap-on dildo. He wasn't the first Black man that the Nigerian professional dominatrix topped. There were many Black men out there with fetishes similar to Gary Jean-Renald. However, this young man was unique. Gary was Haitian, and Haitians were famously conservative. Ninety nine percent of them were staunch Christians, and they went to church weekly and everything. The Haitians that Mistress Stella Aziz met in the City of Montreal, Province of Quebec, certainly were like that. Gary Jean-Renald was different from the others. The second-year Police Foundations major at Algonquin College was into freaky stuff and didn't mind letting his freaky flag fly. So unlike a Haitian, that's for sure. Mistress Stella Aziz pinched Gary's nipples, smacked his face and squeezed his cock and balls while thrusting the strap-on dildo deep into his asshole. The Haitian stud groaned as she fucked him with renewed intensity. Even though it was his first time, she didn't go too easy on him. At six-foot-one and 250 pounds, he was certainly a big guy. Even though he was only twenty one years old. Mistress Stella Aziz liked topping big men. Why? Well, they were more fun to fuck. Also, she was no spring chicken herself. At five feet eleven inches tall while barefoot and one hundred and ninety six pounds soaking wet, Mistress Stella Aziz of Nigeria was a sturdy woman. Ebony-skinned, with long dreadlocks, a curvy body, big tits, wide hips and a big round ass. She was a true African woman and damn proud of it. Mistress Stella Aziz was born into a Sunni Muslim family in the northern region of the Republic of Nigeria. Since moving to the Province of Ontario, Canada, at the age of twenty she adopted a more secular lifestyle. Although she still believed in the One God worshipped by Jews, Christians and Muslims alike, she wasn't a fan of houses of worship or the men who led them. Priests, pastors, rabbis and Imams thought themselves very different from one another but they were all the same. Good at making people follow the rules according to their viewpoint, and keeping their flock docile and obedient for fear of excommunication or apostasy. Mistress Stella Aziz lost faith in organized religion. God loves everyone, and organized religion is for suckers. End of story. Keeping her faith in God, she walked away from Islam and the very idea of organized religion itself. In Nigeria, this might have cost her everything, including her life. In Canada, she was a free woman. Her family was no longer speaking to her but she didn't miss them. She lived her life the way she saw it. After graduating from Carleton University with an MBA and finding herself unemployed in the City of Ottawa, she began working as a professional dominatrix in adult movies and as an online fetish model. There were lots of adult film companies popping up all over the City of Toronto. American porn companies were invading the Canadian market. As one of a handful of Black dominatrix types in Canada, Mistress Stella was considered exotic and new. During the 2011-2012 fiscal year, she made two hundred and seventeen thousand dollars. Not bad, eh? Yeah, she loved what she did and wasn't hurting anybody. Well, not any more than they wanted to be hurt. Life was good. With a song in her heart, Mistress Stella Aziz continued pounding her dildo into the submissive Haitian stud's tight ass. The Nigerian dominatrix really tore into him, and threw back her head and laughed as the big Black guy squealed like a little bitch. Her dildo had gone deeper into his asshole than ever before. Slowly, Mistress Stella Aziz pulled her dildo out of Gary Jean-Renald's asshole. She leaned over, letting her big tits flop about his handsome face. The young stud was moaning softly while catching his breath. Grinning, Mistress Stella Aziz told him that his ass wasn't a virgin anymore. Gary smiled, thanked her and closed his eyes. Mistress Stella Aziz smiled. Her work here was done. Black On Black Pegging : Novelty Look, I want to be perfectly clear about this. I am not gay. I am not even what they call bisexual. I'm one hundred percent straight, bro. I swear to God. I just happen to be one kinky dude, that's all. Anyhow, before we get into anything I want to tell you a bit about me. My name is James Stefano Dawkins. You can call me J.S. if you want. I was born in the City of Los Angeles, California, but I grew up all over the place. I've lived in the town of Kingston, Jamaica, metropolitan Heidelberg in Germany and also in the City of Veracruz, Mexico. Now I'm in Canada, of all places. My mother Esmeralda Vasquez Dawkins got a new position as Special Projects Manager with the Sienna Corporation in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, so we moved there. Life in Canada sucks ass, man. However, I've always believed in making the best out of a bad situation. I enrolled at Carleton University, one of the two big schools in the Capital of Canada. The other one is the University of Ottawa but I think you need to speak French to go there. I speak English, Spanish and even a bit of German but I don't speak a lick of French. I'm from a fairly interesting background. My mother was born and raised in the City of Apodaca in Mexico. She moved to the United States at the age of eighteen to study at the University of California in Los Angeles. That's where she earned her MBA and met my father, Wilfred Dawkins. My father is an immigrant too. He was born and raised in the region of Montego Bay, Jamaica, but moved to California with his family while in high school. He's a lawyer in Los Angeles these days. My folks are divorced, in case you're wondering. Anyone looking at me sees a six-foot-two, lean and wiry young man with light brown skin, pale gray eyes and curly Black hair. I get mistaken for Hispanic all day but I always tell people that I am of partial African descent. I consider myself biracial. My Jamaican-American father raised me to be especially proud of my African heritage. I am part Black and I'm proud. A lot of biracial guys and gals I knew growing up in L.A. denied their Blackness, but I never did. My father taught me that Black is not only beautiful, it is powerful. Anyhow, I think that might have to do with my fascination with Black girls. There are a lot of them at Carleton University, and they're a lot nicer than the sisters I used to meet in Los Angeles. There seems to be an undeclared war between Black men and Black women in America. A lot of hatred on both sides. My father told me that he never had any luck with African-American women, that's why he married a Mexican gal. Of course, I think my father's womanizing had something to do with his bad luck with women but I won't tell him that. I still got much love for my old man. Anyhow, I recently met this young woman who is simply unforgettable. Evelyn Mbakwe. A beautiful young Black woman from the City of Lagos in the African nation of Nigeria. You should see her, man. Five feet eleven inches tall, curvy, with deep and wide-set brown eyes, gorgeously dark brown skin and long, curly Black hair that's all hers. I kind of checked. Evelyn Mbakwe was something else, folks. A tall, fine sister with the kind of heart-shaped, thick ass that should be bronzed and put in a museum. Sorry if I sound a bit vulgar but you've got to see that thing! Anyhow, I met her while looking for a computer inside the perpetually crowded Carleton University campus. First I saw her butt and decided to take a closer look, then I saw her beautiful face and mesmerizing eyes...and forgot what year it was. The gal was that hot. Anyhow, I went over and introduced myself. To my immense surprise, Evelyn Mbakwe was actually nice. In my experience, gorgeous chicks who are really hot are mean as hell when you approach them. For the rest of that afternoon, Evelyn and I got to know each other. I treated her to coffee and sandwiches inside Page Break, this quaint little restaurant inside the library. I learned quite a bit about her. Evelyn was in the graduate studies program at Carleton University, taking up sociology with a focus on women's and gender issues. I didn't know you could get a degree in women's studies and I was curious about what you could do with it after finishing school. Evelyn was only too happy to tell me. The gal wasn't just pretty and deliciously big-bottomed, she was also well-spoken and quite driven. Ambition was part of her genetic makeup, I could tell by the way she carried herself. Evelyn saw herself working for the United Nations after graduating from Carleton University in a year. That's awesome. I'm taking up Law as a second-year undergrad student at Carleton University. I didn't do so hot in the Criminal Justice program at the University of California at Los Angeles. UCLA is one of the toughest schools on the planet, man. And since I was more focused on chasing hot chicks and partying with my fraternity, I barely passed most of my classes. Lesson learned, you have to actually study at University. Who knew? Over the next few days, Evelyn Mbakwe and I got to know each other better. She was a lot of fun. I took her to see the movie Immortals at the Silver City Movie Theater near Blair Station in Ottawa. We had a grand old time. That night, I told her I liked her and she echoed my sentiments. That's when we officially began dating. At first glance, I thought Evelyn was a gorgeous but conservative young African woman. I mean, she describes herself as a staunch catholic, goes to church twice a week, and happens to be on the board of the Christian Women's Alliance at our school. And yet, I later found out some disturbing things about her. Evelyn is a member of the Black Canadian BDSM Society or B.C.D.S. They're kind of like a Canadian version of Dark Connections, this Afro-centric BDSM society I heard about in the U.S. That kind of surprised and fascinated me. And when our relationship got more serious, we explored her fetish together. That's how I ended up on my back, legs and arms bound by chains on a king-sized bed. My sexy Nigerian girlfriend knelt between my legs, stroking my eight-inch, uncircumcised cock while fingering my asshole with her gloved hands. She applied lubricant all over my anus before sliding a slim pink dildo into my ass. To be honest, I was kind of nervous about the whole 'dildo in the ass' experience. However, Evelyn told me she'd done this before and that I was in good hands. It turns out that she was right. Evelyn was gentle as she drove the six-inch dildo into my well-lubricated but still tight asshole. It felt kind of good, especially with her jerking me off while doing it. I felt wonderfully filled, and ended up blowing my load all over the place. Evelyn pulled the dildo out of my ass, kissed me and asked me how I felt. I told her I felt great, then pulled her into my arms. And just like that, we began making love the regular way. My Nigerian goddess climbed on top of me after putting a condom on my still-hard dick. I thrust into her as she wrapped her arms around me. Looking into her eyes, I smiled as we made passionate love. I loved the feel of her tight pussy around my dick. African women are so hot! We went at it for hours until we lay exhausted on the bed, spent. Evelyn Mbakwe is definitely the gal for me, ladies and gentlemen. We get along wonderfully, and I find her simply amazing. She's my Nigerian goddess. My Black princess. My Cleopatra. I never thought I would say this but I'm actually happy to be living in Ottawa, Ontario. For a biracial surfer dude born to a Jamaican father and Mexican mother in Los Angeles, California, that's quite a change in both mindset and lifestyle. I love my Black queen. And I fully embrace my Black heritage these days. When they were doing the Census thing in Canada, I circled Black instead of any other category. Ironically, during the Census 2010 in America, I didn't circle Black. Well, now I know better. I know who I am, what I want and where I want to be. All it took was the love of a good Black woman. Incomparable love, ladies and gentlemen. Peace. Black On Black Pegging: Rebirth My parents did a damn fine job brainwashing me. Seriously. A lot of people say that but I actually mean it. With every fiber of my being. My name is Amanda Joseph Saint-Cyr. I was born and raised in the City of Calgary, Province of Alberta. My father Luc Saint-Cyr is French Canadian and my mother Bella Joseph is of Haitian descent, having moved to the Province of Alberta from her hometown of Cap-Haitien, North Haiti, during the late 1980s. The first day of January 1986 I came into the world. And I've been wreaking havoc ever since. I grew up to be a six-foot-tall, fine-looking young woman with light brown skin, curly Black hair and pale green eyes. I often get mistaken for a Hispanic woman but I always tell people that I am Black. I'm a Black Canadian female. Deal with it. In the summer of 2009 I graduated from the University of Calgary with my MBA. I tried to find decent work but 2010 ended without my finding anything in my field. I decided to explore life outside the Confederation of Canada for a while. I moved to the City of Boston, Massachusetts, and applied for a work permit. I began working for the Boston Museum of Science as a translator. Growing up in racially diverse Calgary, I was exposed to various languages ranging from French to Spanish and Portuguese. The one language my mother didn't want me to learn was Haitian Creole. I think that's part of the reason why I immersed myself in the Haitian community of Boston, Massachusetts. How I loved that fine, vibrant town. There are so many Black people in Boston, Massachusetts it's not even funny. The City of Calgary in Alberta is racially diverse but it's mostly Hispanics, Arabs and East Indians, with a few African immigrants and Afro-Caribbean people here and there. In Boston, I felt right at home. It's in Boston that I met the young man destined become my significant other. Harrison Etienne. Second generation Haitian-American. The proud son of Haitian immigrants Cheryl and Michel Etienne. He was born and raised in the City of Boston, Massachusetts, and was attending Northeastern University's MBA program at the time we met. Something about this six-foot-one, lean and sexy Black man caught my attention as I spoke to some Portuguese tourists one fine summer day inside the Boston Museum of Science. Harrison Etienne walked into the Museum clad in a bright red silk shirt, Black silk pants and Black Timberland boots. He looked good enough to eat. I've always had a thing for tall, dark-skinned and ruggedly handsome guys. We don't have nearly enough of them in the City of Calgary and most of them are into fat White women. Seriously, there must be something in the water that Black men drink. Anyhow, I was smitten with Harrison Etienne the moment he walked up to me. Of course, I tried to play it cool. Can't let him see that I want his fine ass. He's around six-foot-two, built like an NBA player but the Northeastern University student card hanging next to his car keys says otherwise. I've visited many schools in the Boston area, from Harvard University to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Bay State College, Emerson College, Boston College, Boston University, Gibbs College and Suffolk University. It's a University town, that's for sure. At all those schools I saw quite a few good-looking Black men. And I must say that Harrison Etienne seemed like the cream of the crop. What the hell was a fine brother like him doing unattached? I went over and introduced myself because I'm a really helpful sister. I was determined to help a brother out, as my Yankee ( that's Canadian talk for American ) friends might say. Harrison Etienne looked me up and down, and gently shook my hand after I welcomed him to the Boston Museum of Science. Apparently, he was a civil engineering major at the prestigious Northeastern University in downtown Boston and he was working on a project. I was really helpful, even though I didn't know jack about civil engineering. I made sure I gave him my cell phone, Harrison blinked in surprise when he saw the four hundred and three area code on my cell phone. I explained to him that I had an international plan with a cell phone company in my hometown of Calgary, in the Canadian region of Alberta. In Calgary, we use four hundred and three and four hundred and eighty seven. In Boston, they've got six zero seven and seven eight one for the most part. Fascinating. That same afternoon, Harrison Etienne and I met for a few drinks. We had a lot of fun together. He was friendly, smart and totally relaxed. He had a lot of questions about Canada. To my surprise, his questions were very pertinent. He asked about the life of Black Canadian celebrities like the former Governor General, and of course the Black female Lieutenant Governor of the Province of Nova Scotia. I didn't think Americans knew anything about us Canadians. Americans live like the world is theirs and nobody else matters. Canadians seem to know more about United States history and politics than some Americans. Just to show you a thing or two about our different cultures. Harrison Etienne further surprised me by telling me he had relatives in the City of Montreal, crown jewel of the Province of Quebec. Apparently, his maternal uncle Theodore Mathieu emigrated to the Quebec region of Canada in the 1980s. As for Harrison's parents, Cheryl and Michel Etienne, they moved to the State of Massachusetts instead. Wow. Small world. I've been to Quebec quite a few times because my father is French Canadian. It's where I learned to speak French. Unfortunately, my father never let me venture to Montreal-Nord, the Haitian sector of Montreal. Harrison asked me about my parents and I hesitated. Shall I tell him the truth? My parents are racist as hell. My mother is one of those not so rare Black women who hate Black men with a passion and she thinks of White males as demigods and knights in shining armour. My father who is White feels deeply threatened by Black males, especially since he got passed over for a promotion which went to an African guy at the Canadian Revenue Agency in Calgary, Alberta. Dad often says negative things about Black men, and mom echoes them. My parents are racists, even though they're an interracial couple. My mother tried to raise me to see Whiteness as perfection and to loathe other Black people, especially Black males. Luckily, I had a mind of my own. I made friends with African and Afro-Caribbean students at the University of Calgary. And through them, I began getting in touch with my African roots. I told Harrison Etienne all that, even though we just met. When I finished, he sat and listened to me in silence. Gently, he squeezed my hand and promised me everything would be alright. I looked into his beautiful brown eyes and I knew then that I was in the presence of my future hubby. Harrison and I began hanging out all over Boston. He showed me the beauty of his hometown, and the friendliness of its people. Canadians aren't as friendly as Americans. One good thing about you Yanks, you're more honest. If you like someone, you tell them. If you hate them, you tell them too. In Canada, we're cruel and bigoted but we're awfully polite about it. I experienced a lot of racism in Calgary, birthplace of the Redneck Canadian Movement. Of course, my parents tried to steer me toward White folks but I silently vowed to only love other people of color. I dated Black guys throughout high school and university, much to the dismay of my parents. Speaking of Black guys, I really wanted Harrison. Unfortunately, he didn't seem interested in me. What the fuck? Harrison and I were really cool, but I knew there was something strange about him. One night, he told me. And I was shocked. My dream guy told me he was bisexual. As in, attracted to both women and men. As in, NOT straight. What the fuck? I was crushed. Of course, I hid my disappointment and despair behind a placid smile. Harrison told me that he'd been aware of his bisexuality for a while, but never explored it. At the age of twenty three, he'd only been with five women and no men. I winced at that. Wow. I thought a hot guy like him would be banging a different woman every weekend. Harrison told me he cared for me, that's why he told me his secret. Looking into his puppy-like eyes, I felt for him so I gave him a hug. Inside, I seethed. Every Black man I fall for is always queer, married, or into White women. What the fuck? Harrison and I grew closer together, and I struggled to accept him for who and what he was. A tall, gorgeous and educated Black man who considered himself bisexual. Damn. When we walked together through malls, restaurants and clubs in Boston, women looked at us. I knew they were envious. I was walking around with a seriously hot Black guy. However, inside, I was crushed. The man I was falling for could never be mine. Or could he? One night, I put the moves on Harrison. After getting him properly liquored up, of course. We both had a bit to drink, and ended up making out on my couch. Harrison's lips were gentle but firm against mine. I had kissed him before but never like this. I wanted him so badly. Harrison gasped when I went for his dick. I shushed him and told him to relax. Then I knelt before him and took his dick in my mouth. His long and thick, uncircumcised dick. Harrison groaned as I sucked him off. Gay, bisexual or straight, a dick is a dick. And I'm the kind of woman who gives a mean head. I stroked Harrison's balls while sucking him. A sharp groan escaped his lips and he warned me that he was about to cum. And cum he did. All over my mouth. I didn't mind. His manly essence tasted magically delicious to this hungry sister. I put a condom on Harrison's dick and climbed on top of him. And just like that, I began riding him. Harrison wrapped his arms around me and buried his handsome face between my big, firm breasts. He thrust into me with all his might. So this is the man who thinks he's gay or bisexual? From where I'm standing, he's all man. Harrison's big cock filled my pussy and I squealed in delight as he fucked me passionately. I wanted more and begged him for it. He put me on all fours, spanked my ass and fucked me. I told him to pull my hair and he did. This was Harrison at his most aggressive and I loved it. My man is so hot! We fucked and sucked the night away, ladies and gentlemen. I don't know what Harrison is. Maybe he's a confused straight guy with some sexual curiosity about the other side. Or maybe he's truly bisexual. Whatever the case might be, he tore my pussy up and I loved it. And I definitely need an encore! After that night, things changed between Harrison and I forever. Initially, he felt guilty about sleeping with me but I told him I cared for him and wanted a relationship. He was stunned to discover that I wanted to be with him even though he was bisexual. I shrugged. Isn't it up to me as a Black woman to decide whether or not I want to be with a bisexual brother? Harrison smiled and kissed me. The following night, I decided to surprise my new boyfriend. When Harrison returned to his dorm after a late class, he found me naked on his bed with a strap-on dildo about my waist. I stroked it gently, and told him to come join me. Harrison hesitated, but I sternly told him to get his ass on the bed. Obediently he did as he was told. I smiled wickedly. This was going to be fun. Face down and ass up, that's I took Harrison. Initially he was nervous because he'd never had anything up his ass before. Well, this was my first time fucking a man with a strap-on dildo. I was nervous too but I'm a confident woman so it doesn't show. I lubricated Harrison's asshole, and pressed the dildo against his backdoor. I asked him if he was ready for me and he said yes. Grinning, I playfully smacked his ass before sliding the dildo into his well-lubricated ass. Harrison groaned as I penetrated him. I asked him if he was okay and he nodded. I continued fucking him, happily sliding the strap-on dildo into the depths of his asshole. I really enjoyed fucking him. The feeling of power was downright intoxicating. My pussy was wet the entire time. Judging by Harrison's pleasurable moans, he was enjoying himself too. I flipped him on his back so I could look at his face while fucking him. And it was pure perfection. Looking into his eyes and drinking the look of surrender in them while slamming his ass with my strap-on dildo. Hot! Afterwards, Harrison had tears in his eyes as he hugged me tightly, kissed me and proclaimed his love for me. Am I good or what? Yep, that was the firs t time I 'strapped' my man. It was definitely not the last. Harrison and I are doing quite well. We recently got engaged. He filed for me to become a permanent resident of the United States of America. Isn't that awesome? I'm thinking of staying in Boston. Nothing left for me in Calgary, Alberta. My racist parents be damned. I'm the daughter of a Black mother and White father, and I consider myself one hundred percent Black. Oh, and I love my Black men. The darker the better. Just ask my fiancé Harrison here. Oh, sorry. He's still sleeping on account of the punishment I dished out on his ass with my strap earlier. I'm a passionate woman, what can I say? Black On Black Pegging: Redemption My name is James Dalton Guillaume. My friends call me J.D. for short, And I'm a man with a dilemma. You see, I got issues with Black women. It's a love and hate thing between me and them. On the surface, I definitely look like a 'together' brother. I stand six feet two inches tall, broad-shouldered and well-built, with medium brown skin and curly Black hair. I was born and raised in the City of Cap-Haitien, Northern Haiti, but moved to the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario, twelve years ago. I am twenty eight years old, and work for the Canadian Revenue Agency on Bank Street in downtown Ottawa. I hold a bachelor's degree in business administration from Carleton University and an MBA from the University of Ottawa. I made ninety six thousand six hundred and eighty six dollars after taxes in the 2010-2011 year. I live in a newly minted plush condo on Roger Guindon Avenue near the Ottawa General Hospital. It's a pricy neighborhood but I got to park my bright red Lexus somewhere safe, you know? Not bad for a guy who's fresh out of school during a recession, eh? I attend All Nations Full Gospel Church in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. It's a beautiful and mainly African church where a Haitian brother like me can feel right at home. A year ago, I made an astonishing discovery. Throughout my University years, I mainly dated White women because I found sisters too dramatic and too loud for my taste. A lot of good-looking, educated Black men working in the public and private sector in America and Canada's big cities mainly date White women as well. The way I figure it, a Black man has enough problems on God's green Earth. You don't need the complications that a mean sister can bring. That was my reasoning when I asked out Deirdre Saint-Aubin at Carleton University during my freshman year. The tall, blonde-haired and green-eyed French Canadian simply took my breath away. She hailed from the City of Montreal, Quebec, but opted to study at Carleton University in Ottawa, Ontario, because she wanted to get away from her hometown. Deirdre Saint-Aubin and I had some glorious years together. When I graduated from the University of Ottawa's Telfer MBA program, I told myself that I was ready for big things. I asked my longtime girlfriend to marry me inside East Side Mario's restaurant. And she turned me down, shattering my poor little heart into a billion pieces. Deirdre looked at me coldly and told me that while our time together had been fun, she couldn't see herself marrying a Black man. Even though we'd been dating for six years. How about that? She also told me that she was rekindling her romance with Keith Madison, the Irish guy she'd been dating when we met at Carleton University. Apparently, Keith was back in Ottawa after several years in the City of Calgary, Alberta, and he wanted her back. That day, I swore off White women. For real. White women are bitches, man. We Black men often accuse Black women of being gold diggers but White women are the original gold diggers. They really don't mess with a broke brother. Oh, my God. I made the same mistake as Tiger Woods. I chose a gold-digging White bitch over the sisters and I faced ridicule because of my mistake. That's how I ended up almost killing myself and landed on the couch of Dr. Barbara Williamson, an African-American psychiatrist and famous author who emigrated to the City of Ottawa, Ontario, from the City of Atlanta, Georgia, six years ago. Supposedly she now divides her time between the Province of Ontario and the State of Georgia. Sitting on the couch, I bared my soul to this fifty-something Black woman who looked stylish in a nicely cut business suit. Dr. Williamson's office was packed with pictures of her family. I saw a light-skinned, older Black guy in a highly decorated U.S. Military uniform who reminded me of that preppy hotel dude from The Jamie Foxx Show. I guess that was her husband. And the younger Black guy in the picture must be their son. Cool. I found these pictures oddly reassuring. A Black female professional happily married to a successful Black man. Cool. Kind of reminds me of my parents. My folks, Lucien and Marguerite Guillaume live in the City of Montreal, Quebec. They're enjoying their retirement in the beautiful house I purchased for them in Montreal-Nord. It was the least I could do. I mean, my parents sacrificed everything for me. My father worked as a bus driver in Ottawa for ten years to feed his family. Working for OC Transpo, the bus company that transports people across the vastness of Ottawa, isn't easy when you're a foreign-born Black man. Yet my father did it because he wanted to take care of his family. My parents are really loving the Haitian-dominated neighborhoods of Montreal-Nord. My mother Marguerite Etienne Guillaume still works as a nurse practitioner from time to time, doing the odd shift at a nursing home when they call her. Lately, I've been feeling trapped. A lot of Black women say they want a nice brother who's educated, heterosexual, unmarried, has no offspring and happens to be disease-free. I definitely meet the criterion. So why am I alone? In my division at the Canadian Revenue Agency in downtown Ottawa, there are exactly one hundred and thirty people. Nineteen Chinese guys. Eight Chinese ladies. Three East Indian men and five East Indian women. Four Arab women and one Arab man. Eleven Black women and eight Black men. The rest of the division is made up of White men and White women. That's the Canadian government's idea of racial diversity at the workplace. Most of the Black women at the Canadian Revenue Agency are dating White men or Hispanic males. Two of the Black women are gay. All of the Black male employees at the Canadian Revenue Agency, from Stephen, the tall young brother in the security uniform who attends Algonquin College part-time to Joshua, the older Black janitor, happens to be either dating or married to a White woman. I'm the only brother in this cutthroat environment who likes the sisters. I've got several pictures of Black American celebrities like Serena Williams ( on the beach), Alicia Keys ( in concert) and South African-born singing sensation Noni Zondi. I lust after big-booty Black women, big-time. So why am I often alone on a Friday night? I told Dr. Williamson this, and she told me that I had unreasonable expectations. The average Black woman living in Ottawa wasn't a Nubian goddess. I thought of myself as the next Barack Obama and I was looking for my Michelle Robinson. Reality didn't work like that. I walked out of the doctor's office feeling frustrated. Why am I paying this woman sixty dollars per hour if the sessions aren't helping? I walked downstairs. Ottawa on a Friday night. And my car is in the shop due to motor issues. Damn. This means I'm going to have to take the bus. I walked down Elgin street and headed toward the Subway restaurant. I figured I'd grab a bite before going home. I must have been really absent-minded because I crossed the street without looking. I saw this car speeding toward me and thought I was about to meet my maker. That's when something amazing happened. Someone knocked me out of harm's way...and landed on top of me on the sidewalk. A very fresh-smelling someone. I was still dazed but at least one of my senses was working perfectly. I looked up and saw a tall, fine-looking sister in a track suit looking at me. The young woman held her hand out, and gave me a hand up. I took it. Wow, the grip on her. My savior looked me up and down, smiled and asked me if I was alright. I mumbled something. She nodded, then said she had to run. With that, she took off. As she ran down the street, I could see the logo Goodlife Fitness Club on the back of her track suit. I could also see that she had a curvy but firm physique, and quite a butt on her. What a woman! I went home that night with a smile on my face for the first time in ages. I had to see that woman again. I couldn't shut up about her in my next session with Dr. Williamson on Sunday afternoon. So imagine my surprise when I saw her at the office Monday. There she was, looking mighty fine in a Commissionaires security uniform. They're a big security company in Quebec and Ontario. I approached the security desk with my identification card ready to swipe. Recognition flashed on the young woman's eyes when she saw me. I smiled, and our eyes met. I took in the sight of her. Hot damn. She was at least five feet eleven inches tall if not six feet. And she was built like Serena Williams. Her face was beautiful, round and had a spooked softness and vulnerability in it. Her name tag read Yvonne Mathieu. A Haitian name! Security officer Yvonne grinned and asked me if she'd seen me somewhere. I told her that I was the guy whose life she saved Friday night. Yvonne smiled, showing beautiful pearly Whites. I shook her hand. Again she crushed my grip. I was about to say more when a short, stocky White guy with red hair came in. it was David Winston, my boss. Winston smiled and told me we had to talk. He had some exciting numbers to run by me, since I was his number one guy. I smiled apologetically at Yvonne, and took the elevators with Winston. I wanted to strangle the little man for interrupting my talk with this fine ebony goddess, but I refrained. I'm a good Christian and it's not polite to strangle your boss. I read that somewhere. Winston dumped a huge work load on me, since I'm the workaholic at the office and everybody else is married or some crap like that. During lunch, I went downstairs to look for Yvonne. I couldn't find her. So I looked her up on Facebook. I found out quite a bit about her. Yvonne was a graduate of the Police Foundations program at La Cite Collegiale, a small French College in Orleans, Ontario. Interesting. There was even a little blurb about her. It said she moved to Ottawa, Ontario, from Grande Riviere Du Nord in North Haiti, in 2008. Hmmm. She'd only been in Canada three years. Interesting. I couldn't stop thinking about her. I ditched work early so I could run into her at four forty five in the afternoon. Yvonne was leaving early because her replacement, a chubby Black security guard named Todd, was already here. I smiled at Yvonne and again thanked her for saving my life. Then I asked her if she wanted to grab dinner sometime. Yvonne smiled politely, and told me that she didn't date people she worked with. With that, she walked away. I stood there mournfully as I watched her big sexy ass walk away. Damn. That afternoon, I told Dr. Williamson about the encounter and she told me she was amazed that I ran into my savior again. I smiled. Small world indeed. I was determined to change Yvonne's mind even though Dr. Williamson warned me away from her. I pursued Yvonne doggedly. I joined the same Goodlife Fitness Club where she worked out twice a week. She seemed surprised to see me there. I asked her to grab a coffee with me and she relented. As we sat together inside Tim Horton's restaurant, I got to know her a bit better. Yvonne was twenty two years old, and was working to make money so she could attend the University of Ottawa. She told me that she wasn't a Canadian citizen or even a permanent resident yet so she wasn't eligible for the Ontario Student Assistance Plan. Hmmm. I remember what that was like. I told her to look into scholarship opportunities, and empathetically told her that we weren't that different. When she cocked a skeptical eyebrow, I revealed myself as a fellow Haitian. That surprised her. Yvonne told me that I didn't look Haitian. I smiled. I get that a lot. With my medium brown skin and naturally curly Black hair, I often get asked if I'm mixed. I am not. Both my parents are Black. My father has some Dominican in him, though. He's mixed, not me. I am one hundred percent Black. I'm just light-skinned with curly hair and pale brown eyes. I addressed Yvonne in creole, and told her "ou se yon bel fanm". Translation? You are a beautiful woman. Yvonne blushed. I offered Yvonne my cell phone number and took her email address when she seemed reluctant to offer hers. I told her I just wanted to give her some scholarship options because I had been through similar things. Yvonne seemed okay with that. That night, she texted me. I saved her number, and we talked for forty five minutes before she had to go to bed. I went to sleep with a smile on my face. The next day, we had lunch together. I offered to pay but she declined. Taking out her Royal Bank of Canada blue and gold debit card, Yvonne paid for everything. I couldn't believe it. I was becoming fascinated by this young Haitian woman. I wanted to find out more about her. So I did. I hate to sound all stalker-like but a good thing about working for the tax agency means I can find out anything about anyone. Just give me a name. I found out a lot about Yvonne Jeannine Mathieu. Yvonne Jeannine Mathieu's information came up on the national Canadian database. Her social insurance number started with a nine, meaning that she was not a Canadian citizen or a permanent resident. Also, she had a work permit and happened to be a refugee claimant. I sighed when I read that. A lot of Haitians living in Canada fall under that category. Lucky for me, my parents managed to become permanent residents and eventually citizens before I started University. By the time I started my undergrad studies at Carleton University, I was a new citizen of Canada. Studying for the citizenship test was tough but I made it, as did my parents before me. Yvonne wasn't so lucky. It said that she lived in Boston, Massachusetts, for five years before moving to Ottawa, Ontario. She had an uncle in town, Ernest Mathieu, the guy who was sponsoring her. I figured out the story. Yvonne came to America on a visa and stayed long after it expired. Since America is pretty hostile to illegal immigrants since September 11, 2001, Yvonne decided to cross over into Canada. Supposedly Canada was more tolerant of newcomers. Hmm. Not with the conservative government of Prime Minister Stephen Harper in power. Maybe if Dalton McGuinty, supreme leader of the Province of Ontario, ever became Prime Minister then Canada would become a bastion of diversity again. I smiled at Yvonne's government picture. Poor gal. Brave gal. I decided to help her. Yvonne definitely interested me but she was determined to keep me at arm's length. Just like a woman. Isn't that funny? Well, I pursued her doggedly and soon we were meeting for dinner and movies regularly. At work, we were friendly to each other without being too obvious. Judging by her smile and how she checked me out when I came in, she liked me too. Yvonne and I became fast friends, and she introduced me to a world I didn't know much about. The world of lower-class Afro-Caribbean and African immigrants in Ottawa. All day I rubbed elbows with the capital's elite. I had lost touch with my people. Well, Yvonne helped me get back in touch with my roots. Yvonne took me to Soleil Des Iles, this quaint little Haitian restaurant in the Vanier sector of Ottawa. The place sat in the middle of a neighborhood filled with Arabs, Somalians, Mexicans and Chinese people. All of them loved it. I met the owner and her husband. Nice people. They were really fond of Yvonne, whom they described as friendly and helpful. Yvonne and I dined on some authentic Haitian food. Something I hadn't had since my mother moved to Montreal two years ago. Damn, how I missed my people's cooking! When Yvonne got up to buy some lemonade at the counter, I checked out her fabulous ass. Hot damn. Yvonne's all natural Haitian woman's booty was bigger and better than that of Serena Williams. No lie. When Yvonne came back, she smiled at me and told me that booty gawking was considered a crime in Saudi Arabia so I should be thankful I lived in Canada. I grinned sheepishly. Busted. Somehow, she caught me eyeballing her ass. Damn. Yvonne smiled, and did the last thing I expected. She leaned closer, and planted a kiss on my lips. A quick, hot kiss. I looked at her, stunned. Yvonne smiled and shrugged. I grinned, and we continued eating. Yvonne reminded me we had to get back to work. I smiled. No way I was getting any work done for the rest of the day after she kissed me. True to form, I didn't. I sat inside my office, curtains drawn over the windows, checking out Yvonne's pictures of Facebook. She had a ton of them where she wore short skirts and booty shorts. Hmm. Delicious. Thank God for creating the Black woman! When Winston dropped by to talk to me about something, I had to cross my legs to conceal my boner. I had a picture of Yvonne on my computer's wallpaper. One where she wore a tight red T-shirt and Black thong underwear. And she was on the beach. Hmmm. Winston dropped more work on my desk, and I had to grin and bare it. I wanted him out of my office and agreeing with him was the quickest way to get it done. Lest he stick around and find out exactly why I didn't get up to greet him when he came in! That afternoon, I sat inside Dr. Williamson's office and told her about my growing feelings for Yvonne. Amazingly, the doctor told me to go for it. How about that? The next day, I took Yvonne to the movies and finally she let me pay for everything. Good. I am the man, after all. This big-booty tomboy better not forget it! After the movie, we walked through Saint Laurent Mall. A haunted look filled my face when we walked by East Side Mario's restaurant. Yvonne asked me if I was okay, and I said no. I didn't want to tell her jack but she dragged the story out of me. As we sat inside the food court upstairs, I told Yvonne how Deirdre broke my heart into a million pieces. I couldn't believe I was pouring my heart to this young woman. She was only twenty two. What did she know of heartbreak? When I finished, Yvonne didn't say anything. She simply stood up, and wrapped her arms around me. For the first time in nearly a decade, I actually cried. I'll vigorously deny if you ask me about it in front of my old Carleton University fraternity buddies but it did happen. I cried in front of a woman. A cardinal sin in the male handbook. Great shades of Chuck Norris! Yvonne simply held me against her, and I let go. I swear I didn't remember how we got home. Yvonne drove my Lexus back to her Donald street apartment in Vanier. There, we had another heart to heart. I lay on her couch, resting my head against her thighs. I had a lot to say. I'd never been lucky with women, either Black or White. In high school, I was too nerdy for the sisters. In University, I mainly dated White women because of my negative experiences with the sisters in the past. And now I was alone, because I was afraid to trust women with my feelings again. Yvonne told me I wasn't alone. Then she kissed me. And just like that, we began making love. Gently, slowly, we undressed each other. I admired Yvonne's gorgeous, curvy body. From her beautiful face to her curvy body, her succulent, large breasts, her wide hips, her thick legs and big, heart-shaped butt. Hmmm. She was perfect. Yvonne kissed me and ran her fingers all over my hairy chest. Sometimes she tugged at my chest hairs and I winced. Laughing, she kissed me some more. Her hands went to my groin, and just like that, she began stroking my thick, uncircumcised dick. I'm only seven and a half inches long but I am THICK. Yvonne kissed me a path from my chest to my groin, then began sucking me. I lay on the carpeted floor of Yvonne's living room as she sucked me. I moaned in pleasure as she fingered my asshole while sucking my dick. Hot damn. How did she know I like it like that? I didn't tell females I liked having my ass played with. Especially Black women. Many of them thought any man who liked butt play was queer. I'm not gay or bisexual but sometimes I fantasize about a hot woman fingering me or even fucking my ass with a dildo. My ex-girlfriend Deirdre used to bang my ass with a strap-on dildo. It was a lot of fun. One thing about Deirdre, she might have been a cold and heartless bitch but she was kinky. Yvonne banished all thoughts of Deirdre from my mind as she shoved two fingers up my ass and sucked my cock until I came. I shouted a warning that I was about to cum but she ignored it. And then she sucked me dry. Wow. Yvonne wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and smiled at me. I was eager to return the favor so I pulled her to me, and spread her big sexy thighs wide open. I inhaled the scent of her womanhood. Hmmm. No two women smell or taste alike. I began to gently lick her pussy. Gently I teased her clitoris with my fingers and tongue. Yvonne had a big clit. I like them like that. I sucked it and licked and fingered it. I jammed two fingers in her pussy, then three. Yvonne bottomed out at four fingers. I had her squealing in delight as I did my thing. In the end, I made her pussy gush love juices all over my face. Then I drank her in. I love the taste of a Black woman's pussy. Nothing like it on this planet. Black On Black Pegging: Redemption Yvonne and I woke up in each other's arms. It was Saturday and we decided to spend the day together. Finally, I got to spend the whole day with my lady. We walked down Donald Street to Gino's convenience store to buy groceries, and walked back. We cooked a homemade Haitian meal together. White rice and brown beans, along with salted pork and legumes. We washed it all down with some orange juice. Afterwards, we walked from Saint Laurent boulevard to Montreal Road and went all the way to Montfort together. A journey of several miles. Not easy in the Canadian fall but it was alright. I enjoyed walking with my lady, talking about everything and nothing. I took Yvonne's hand in mine and kissed it. Yvonne giggled, and I held her hand for the rest of the walk home. That night, I took her home. To my three-bedroom condominium on Roger Guindon Avenue. I proudly gave her a tour of the house. Yvonne wanted to see everything so I showed her everything. From the underground parking lot to the loft itself. I've got a Jacuzzi and everything. Flat screen TV that covers up an entire wall. Scores of paintings of everyone from Haitian heroes like Emperor Jean Jacques Dessalines, King Henri Christophe, Alexandre Petion, Toussaint Louverture and Faustin Soulouque to African-American luminaries like Martin Luther King, Rosa Parks, George Washington Carver, Bernie Mac, Barack Obama, Will Smith, Angela Bassett, Henry Louis Gates and the unforgettable Oprah herself. Yvonne seemed fascinated by the whole place, and loved the paintings but asked me about my family photos. I showed her my study, where I kept my family photos. Dad in his police uniform in Cap-Haitien. Mom at her graduation from College Pratique Du Nord. Little me. Oh, yeah. All the family stuff. Yvonne smiled at pictures of me on a bicycle when I was much younger. She told me I was cuter then. I laughed and playfully smacked her butt. Then I kissed her. We ended up making love on my desk. Hmm. I can't get enough of this woman. Afterwards, Yvonne and I lay in bed. I asked her to move in with me. Seriously. I told her I wanted to be with her. She could live with me, and it would be alright. Yvonne smiled and shook her head. She said she wanted to keep her independence. With that, she reached for her panties, but I snatched them away. Yvonne tried to get them from me and we playfully wrestled. I pinned her. Gently, I kissed her. Then I told her the three words I had never told any woman other than my mother. I love you. Yvonne smiled, and I saw a deep sadness in her eyes. She told me that she loved me too, but us being together was ill-advised. When I asked her why, she told me she wouldn't be around for long. Then she forcefully extricated herself from my arms and took off. By the time I realized what was going on, she took off. I sat in the dark in front of my computer. This is the second time I propose something to a woman I care about and she turns me down. What is it with females, man? Black or White, they're determined to do crazy stuff. Women are always saying men don't want to commit. Well, I'm offering my lady the keys to my kingdom and my heart. Short of a ring, what screams commitment more than that? I shook my head, grumbling in frustration. For some reason, I looked up Yvonne's files on the government database. The Canadian Revenue Agency was linked to all other government agencies including the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and the Canadian Citizenship and Immigration Service. I looked up Yvonne there. It said that three weeks ago she appeared before Judge Arthur McRae for a hearing on her refugee claimant status. Apparently, refugee status was denied to her because Judge McRae found that she wasn't a convention refugee. Yes, she did flee Haiti for the United States because her family was targeted by their political enemies. Yes, she did cross over to Canada because of xenophobia and anti-immigrant sentiments in the United States. No, she was not to be considered a refugee claimant because there was no specific risk to her returning in Haiti. Thus, her claim was denied. She was advised to file an appeal, and to seek help from the Humanitarian Affairs Agency in the Province of Alberta. I shook my head in shock. Yvonne's claim was denied. Within a couple of years unless she managed to obtain her permanent residency by other means, the Canadian government would deport her. Damn. I couldn't let that happen. I flew to my car, and raced to Vanier. I found Yvonne in tears. She had just come home and crashed on her couch without closing the door. For a security professional to forget these things, this was troubling indeed. Yvonne looked at me with tear-filled eyes when she saw me. Recoiling, she told me to go away, that she wasn't good enough for me. When I heard that, I was stunned. SHE wasn't good enough for ME? I was an overly educated pompous dude who looked good in a business suit and I bragged about my accomplishments ceaselessly until I met her. Small wonder women weren't into me at the time. Yvonne was already a hard-working, God-fearing and accomplished young woman when she met me. She put me back in touch with my own people. She restored my faith in Black male/Black female relationships. Hell, she saved my life! I told her all this. Yvonne smiled sadly, and told me that I should find someone else worthy of me because she wasn't going to be around for long. I smiled and pulled her into my arms. She fought me but I prevailed. I held her close, and kissed her. Then I told her the truth. I was fully aware of her status in Canada. Yvonne's eyes widened when she heard me admit to violating her privacy, not to mention all the laws of Canada. As a government agent with national clearance, I had just admitted to breaking every rule in the book. I could be fired if my bosses found out. Oh, and I'd do some jail time too. Yvonne shook her head, and told me she was glad I knew the awful truth. Now, she said, I would understand why we couldn't be together. I told her that I wanted to be with her always. If they kicked her out of Canada, I would move to Haiti to be with her. Yvonne laughed, and told me that I wouldn't survive down there. I took her face into my arms and told her that there was an alternative. She could stay with me. Here. Marry me. Become my wife. As the wife of a Canadian citizen, she would be automatically granted her permanent residency in Canada. She would be eligible for various social benefits, including the Ontario Student Assistance Plan. She would be able to study at the University of Ottawa after qualifying for financial aid. Yvonne smiled at me and told me she loved me, but she was unwilling to just use me to stay in Canada and accomplish her goals. I told her that when we met, she rescued me. The least she could do was let me rescue her too. Then I kissed her again. This time, she didn't fight me. We made passionate love on her couch. I got no idea how we ended up in her bed. The following day, Yvonne and I drove to Montreal, where I introduced her to my parents. They fell in love with the young lady who saved their only son. We returned to Ottawa two days later. Yvonne and I plan on getting married in three months. Just to give us time to get to know each other better. In the meantime, life and work went on. She accepted the engagement ring I put on her finger six weeks later. I love this gal, folks. Our relationship is wickedly passionate. Yvonne introduced me to new pathways to pleasure. Sometimes, I think this fine Haitian sister is trying to kill me using sex, man. The other night, she made my ultimate fantasy come true. I had jokingly told her about my curious fascination with strap-on dildos, and I figured she was turned off when she didn't say much. Imagine my surprise when I came home after a hard day at work and found her lying in my bed, completely naked, stroking a long and slim Black strap-on dildo. Yvonne smiled at me and told me to get on all fours. I did as I was told. My sexy Black goddess came up behind me, spread my ass cheeks and fingered me with gloved fingers. Yvonne lubricated my asshole, then asked me if I was ready. Oh, man. I was totally ready! Getting fucked by a sexy, bossy and big-bottomed Black woman with a strap-on dildo is THIS brother's wildest dream. Yvonne gently pushed the dildo inside of me. I groaned as she penetrated me. It hurt a bit, but felt okay afterwards. Yvonne held my hips tightly as she worked the strap-on dildo up my ass. I loved it. At last, I knew what it felt like. I always despaired of ever find a Black woman who would embrace my kinky side and love me for me rather than think of me as a freak or a weirdo. I'm one hundred percent heterosexual, I just get a sexual thrill from the idea of a Black dominatrix topping me. There, I said it. Yvonne fucked me good, and when she switched things up by flipping me on my back, I totally loved it. In this position I could look into her beautiful face as she fucked my ass with her strap-on dildo. Gave me a great visual to work with as I stroked my dick, watching her big tits bounce while she topped me. Yvonne gently stroked my cock as she fucked me. I gently touched her firm, large breasts while we did our thing. My sexy Haitian goddess continued pounding my ass until she had me begging for mercy. That's when she released me by pulling her dildo out of my ass. Then she stroked me until I came, squirting all over myself. When all was said and done, my gorgeous, strong and sexy Yvonne gathered me into her arms and asked me how I felt. I kissed her tenderly, and told her I felt great. We fell asleep like this. Well, she fell asleep. I couldn't sleep. I was bubbling with energy. I ran my hands over my wife-to-be's sexy body. How I loved her. The hair. The skin. Those lips. Those hips. And don't even get me started about that butt. Hot damn, Black women are goddesses. And my Yvonne is a fine example. I can't wait till we're married. If tonight's amazing sexual activities are any indication of what awaits me in my life with her, then this brother thanks his lucky stars. I look forward to the rest of our lives together. I now realize that there are no accidents in life, only the subtle hand of fate at work. And I'm thankful to God that my Yvonne came into my life. Amen! Black On Black Pegging: Religion Looking into my sexy Nigerian boyfriend's eyes, I happily pushed the strap-on dildo deep into his asshole. Mac Arthur Adewale lay on the bed, his shiny dark brown body glistening with sweat. He stroked his long and thick member as I worked the dildo inside of him. This was his ultimate fantasy and I was only too happy to make it come true. Raising his lean, sexy legs in the air, I angled the dildo in order to achieve maximum penetration. Oh, yeah. My sexy man was loving this. And you know what? So was I. My name is Amal Abdul-Hamid and I was born and raised in the City of Mecca, crown jewel of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. The daughter of a Saudi father and Somali mother. As a biracial woman of Arabic and African descent, I have a unique sensuality that appeals to many. However, Mac Arthur Adewale is the only man for me. I reach for Mac Arthur's cock and stroke it while sliding the dildo deeper into his asshole. I just love the look on his dark, handsome face. The contrast between us is startling. Mac Arthur Adewale stands six feet six inches tall, lean and muscular. His dark brown skin is so lovely. His sharp-featured face is strong and masculine. This sexy Nigerian stud moved to Ontario with his family three and a half years ago. He used to attend Algonquin College but now studies Law at Carleton University. I just love tall, dark and handsome Black men who also have that unique combination of ambition and sex appeal. Mac Arthur and I really don't look like we would go out. I'm five-foot-eight, slightly chubby, with light brown skin, long curly Black hair and almond-shaped brown eyes. Due to my biracial heritage, I often get mistaken for a Hispanic woman but I always tell people that I am both Black and Arabic. A proud daughter of the great nations of Somalia and Saudi Arabia. When he first approached me inside the University Center at Carleton University in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, Mac Arthur had no idea that I was this kinky. Us Muslim girls are supposed to be meek and innocent. Want to know the world's best kept secret? Women from the Muslim world are the most sensual on the planet. So damn sexy and horny that Muslim men worry themselves into bad health that we're going to give into our nearly uncontrollable sensuality and fuck anything that moves. When my family moved to Ottawa, Ontario, my father Abdullah worried that I would fall for the ways of the Infidel. I think it's what ultimately led to his heart attack. He's now wheelchair-bound and has to be cared for by a nurse. Our family is wealthy so we have a nurse working on him seven days a week at our beautiful mansion in the Ottawa suburb of Barrhaven. My mother Alia currently lives in the City of Toronto, Ontario. She doesn't think I know it but she's been dating a Jamaican guy named Joshua. I really don't care what she does. Honestly, I hope she finds happiness with Joshua. Mom and dad were separated long before the incident which forever changed my father's life. After his stroke, my father basically lost most of his memory. He's there, but not really in the picture. Leaving me free to live my own life at last. I love my dad and all but I've got to be my own woman. I am twenty three years old and just beginning to explore my sexuality. At the beginning of the 2011-2012 academic year, I met Mac Arthur Adewale, a young Black man from the City of Lagos in the Republic of Nigeria. He's tall, fine and handsome. The fact that he's a Christian would have deterred most Muslim women from striking a friendship with him. Not me. I've always found Christian men far more appealing than Muslim men. For starters, they're less controlling. Of course, one must not generalize. Some Muslim men are nice and laid back and some Christian men are jerks. By and large, Christian men have more progressive views toward women's rights and the idea of gender equality. I know what I'm talking about. I grew up in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, the birthplace of Islam itself. Every year, scores of men and women from around the world visit Mecca. Lately, a lot of white women from Europe and North America have been converting to Islam. If only they knew what they were getting into. Being a white female Muslim in Europe and North America is different from being a Muslim woman living in Saudi Arabia. Trust me on that one. I won't go into details but Saudi women dream of the rights that western women take for granted and are so eager to throw away. White women are foolish anyway and I'm glad my Mac Arthur isn't into them. To a young woman raised in the City of Mecca, Saudi Arabia, the Confederation of Canada is a dream come true for me. A place where I can be anything I want to be. Women can be lawyers, doctors, firefighters, police officers, judges, soldiers and even prime ministers in this country. In Saudi Arabia, we can't even drive or leave the house without being escorted by a male relative. Not for the sake of our own safety but for reasons of family honor. And if we are suspected of deviance of any sort, our lives are forfeited. Like Zainab Shafia, the young Arab woman whose father Mohammed Shafia murdered her in Ontario. He's currently on trial for the honor killing in the criminal court of Ontario. Canadians are fascinated by the concept of honor killings. For women living in the most conservative parts of the ever expanding Muslim world, they're a grim reality. I love North America the way it is. I think Judeo-Christian ideals should prevail here, along with democracy and gender equality because radical Islam is hostile to women, gays and anyone who doesn't conform. Trust me when I say Christian fundamentalists got nothing on these guys. I could never explore my sexuality back in Saudi Arabia as I can here in Canada. For example, I went into an adult video store on Rideau Street near the mall and bought a strap-on dildo and condoms because I wanted to surprise my dear Mac Arthur tonight. I came in, wearing a Black jacket over a long-sleeved T-shirt, blue jeans and boots. I wore the hijab, of course. The clerk, a chubby blonde-haired white chick, happily helped me find the right strap-on dildo and lubrication bottles. The whole purchase, condoms included me, cost me eighty dollars which I charged to my Royal Bank of Canada debit card. I couldn't do that in Saudi Arabia. Go to the store by myself. Receive help from a female clerk. Taking control of my sexuality. May God bless the continent of North America! Happily I strapped my man, as they say. Mac Arthur moaned in pleasure as I drilled him with my strap-on dildo. I really let him have it, slamming my dildo deep into his well-lubricated asshole. I fucked my sexy Nigerian stud until I had him begging for mercy. That's when I released him. Slowly, I pulled my dildo out of his asshole. Mac Arthur sighed in relief, and we shared a gentle, passionate kiss. Mac Arthur smiled at me and thanked me for a wonderful time. Who says Muslim women can't be sensually bossy and dominant in and out of the bedroom? Not me! Black On Black Pegging Rocks I have never seen anything like this before. A tall and sexy Black woman with a cute face, decidedly curvy body, wide hips and a big round ass. Well, truth be told I've definitely seen that before. Plenty of them in my town. However, there was something different about this one. And not just because she's my darling fiancée. My lady just stood there, and she looks tougher than usual. And she's wearing a strap-on dildo. Her name is Nadege Armand. And this bossy Haitian-Canadian mama is determined to fuck me in the ass tonight. With that big strap-on dildo of hers. My name is Christopher D'Arcy. Born and raised in the City of Boston, Massachusetts. And I'm a young Black American man of Haitian descent living in the City of Toronto, Province of Ontario. Been there for three years, and I love this town. I approve this message. I sat on the bedroom, completely naked and stroking my eight-inch, uncircumcised Black cock. Nadege gestured for me to come to her and I obeyed. When my sexy Black goddess commands me, I always obey. If I don't, there is usually hell to pay. I knelt before my goddess and began licking her toes. I worked my way up to her crotch, where the strap-on dildo stared at me like a menacing cobra. Smiling, Nadege told me to suck away. Without hesitation I fastened my lips to the strap-on dildo. I love to please my mistress. I began sucking on her dildo while stroking my dick. Nadege ran her hands through my long dreadlocks as my head bobbed up and down on her strap-on cock. Nadege ordered me to deep throat her strap-on dildo just like she did my dick every other night. I tried my best. I don't exactly go around sucking on dildos every damn day. In fact, most people who know me would be shocked to see me like this. I go to York University, and I'm one of the top players on the men's soccer club. To the world at large, I'm a university student, an athlete and a church-going, conservative and respectable Black man. Definitely not the kind of guy they'd imagine playing kinky domination games with his bossy wife-to-be. Well, this goes to show you that you never really know people. With that in mind, I sucked Nadege's strap-on dildo like my life depended on it. Nadege smiled and told me I was doing real good. If I could have thanked my lady for her praise, I would have. My mouth was kind of busy sucking on her dildo. Nadege rubbed her tits together and pursed her sexy lips as I sucked on her strap-on dildo. Man, just like that we hooked up and it was actually very much like this, only the reverse. I had come home after a really tough day at work. I work as a security guard at a mall in downtown Toronto. Just to pay some bills. I make fifteen bucks an hour. I do this part-time because my scholarship at the University of Toronto doesn't cover room and board. Only academia. See what a Haitian-American brother has to do just to get by in the Confederation of Canada? Nadege pulled the dildo out of my lips abruptly. I looked at her, kind of surprised by her actions. Nadege grinned, and told me that she had enough of the fucking preliminaries. She was most definitely ready for the main event. And without another word, she grabbed me by my dick and led me to the bed. She shoved me on the bed, and roughly made me assume the position. I'm around six-foot-one by one hundred and eighty six pounds. A respectable size. Definitely not someone used to being pushed around by anybody. However, Nadege can be one scary bitch. At five-foot-eleven by two hundred and something pounds, she's bigger and possibly stronger than me. And although she's loving and caring most of the time, she's got her unpleasant moments. She smiled at me nastily. The kind of smile a great white shark might give to a dolphin it cornered after separating it from its fellows. I looked at my darling fiancée and felt m equal part lust and fear when our eyes met. Nadege told me she was going to plunder my ass. Violate me like I'm frigging parole or something. My cock hardened. I wanted it! A long time ago I would have had trouble admitting this. Not anymore. I know who and what I am. I am a sexual submissive. And my lady Nadege is sexually dominant. Even when we're having regular sex. My wife-to-be is bossy even when she's kneeling before me sucking my dick. She has an attitude even when I've got her face down and ass up, with my big Black dick buried deep inside her asshole. She cusses all the time, especially when I fill her hairy pussy with my cock. I wanted her the first time I laid eyes on her in our history class at York University. I love my lady. Not in spite of her bossiness. Because of it. Yes, I am a Black man who loves his bossy Black woman. There, I admit it. Without further ado, I offered Nadege my ass, and she took it. Tenderly Nadege spread my ass cheeks wide open and applied lubricant all over my asshole. Then she pressed the dildo against my backdoor. I gritted my teeth as Nadege penetrated me. As she entered me, Nadege asked me how I felt. I told her I was okay. She continued pushing the dildo deeper and deeper inside of me. It hurt, but also felt kind of good. She began to really give it to me. My Linda began pounding my Black male ass with her strap-on dildo. That's why she's the Black woman I chose to be my wife. I screamed in pleasure mixed with pain as she fucked me hard. She berated me while fucking me and I got off on it. Man, my woman really went off on me. She called me names. She smacked me. She squeezed my balls so hard I cried. She rammed her dildo so far up my ass that I did more than scream. I actually squealed. Yes, a strong Black man can squeal. Especially if he's got a strong Black woman lovingly ramming a dildo up his ass. My woman and I went at it, with her pounding me until I begged for mercy. Linda pulled the dildo out of me and embraced me passionately while I struggled to catch my breath. She looked me straight in the eyes and told me she loved me. I know we're definitely not your conventional Black couple. A lot of folks in the Black community are sexually conservative. However, who cares, right? I'm happy with Linda and she's happy with me. So what if my future wife packs a mean strap-on and loves using it on me? I'm certainly okay with it. I love my lady and she loves me. Who says Black Love is dead? Whoever said that clearly hasn't met my Linda or myself. We're getting hitched in early 2012. When we'll both have our degrees from York University. I haven't decided whether or not I'm going to stay in Toronto, Ontario, or move back to Boston, Massachusetts. Linda likes the U.S. so maybe we'll go there. It would certainly be better for our careers. Whatever. We got time. I hope you enjoyed yourselves. Peace. Black On Black Pegging Rules! Happily I slid my eight-inch strap-on dildo into Saul Jean-Pierre's tight asshole. The big and tall young Black man groaned as I penetrated him. Lying on his back completely naked on my big bed, he took it like a bitch. Bound legs hanging in the air and eyes filled with lust and shock. His hands are also bound for good effect. I wonder if he knew what he was getting into when he contacted me online for some wicked fun. My name is Lorraine Saint-Francis. A short-haired, light-skinned and freckle-faced, busty and wide-hipped, pleasantly plump Haitian-Canadian woman living in the City of Montreal, Province of Quebec. I am fifty three years old and I'm continuing with my lifelong passion of sexing up sexy Black men in wicked ways. That's why I'm a dominatrix specializing in Black on Black pegging. I simply love fucking young Black men in the ass with my strap-on dildo. I reached for Saul and grabbed hold of his balls. I squeezed them tightly as I continued banging his ass with my strap-on dildo. Like a lot of young Black men living in North America, Saul thinks mature Black women are easy. Well, he's not exactly wrong. However, unlike the majority of mature Black sluts who chase younger Black men, I'm nobody's bitch. I am a dominant Black woman through and true. If you're going to play with me, you had better learn to bow down. For I am the Queen and you are my Submissive. No other role for you to play, my sexy Black men. In my bedroom you're not the Big Bad Black Stud drilling the hapless and eager Black sluts with your big cock. You're the bitch getting fucked in the ass by me, pure and simple. When Saul contacted me online, we chatted quite a bit. He's twenty three, a newcomer to the Confederation of Canada. He's been living in the City of Montreal for about three months now. He's straight from the City of Cap-Haitien in the Republic of Haiti. I like my Haitian men. Especially the ones straight from the Caribbean. They're so macho and cocky. I love to dominate them in the bedroom. And that's exactly what I did to our friend Saul here. I smack his hairy Black man's ass as I thrust the dildo deeper into his asshole. I want him to really feel it. I want him to know what it's like to get fucked in the ass by a woman. Especially a dominant mature Black woman like myself. Personally, I think there's something decidedly erotic and forbidden, downright politically incorrect about what I do. A strong Black woman dominating and sexually humiliating all too willing Black men. By banging them in the ass with a strap-on dildo. How hot is that? If porn directors had any brains they'd latch onto the idea while it's hot. I think a website featuring Black women dominating Black men sexually by slamming dildos up their butts would be a hot commodity in the world of online interracial porn today. Decidedly something viewers aren't used to seeing. Are you with me on this one? It's a shame if you aren't because I think it's a marvellous idea. I smacked Saul's face and spat on him while slamming my dildo into his asshole. Saul squealed as I fucked him harder. I laughed at his pain and found other ways to inflict even more torment on him. I squeezed his big Black balls really hard and twisted his big Black dick this way and that. His screams changed in tone. He looked into my eyes and actually looked frightened. I told him I was fucking him in the ass and there was nothing he could do about it. His ass belonged to me. Saul struggled in his bonds but to no avail. I continued smacking him around and berating him while shoving my dildo deep into his asshole. There is nothing I love more than a nice and clean, tight ass for me to fuck. And it's got to be Black. I don't fuck men of other races. My love and my disdain are reserved for Black men. They receive both from me in almost equal measures. I remember the first Black man who let me fuck him in the ass. It was the late 1980s and I was a graduate student at Laval University in the Province of Quebec. One of a handful of Black students at this mostly White school. It's where I met Joseph Marcellin, a tall and ruggedly handsome young Black man from the Caribbean. We clicked, and began dating. I quickly discovered that while Joseph was macho-looking and acted tough around his male friends, he was a complete pussy behind closed doors. In the bedroom, he did everything I told him. And he never complained about my bossiness. I kept pushing the envelope with him. Sometimes I made him kneel before me and suck my toes. Other times I bent him over my knee and spanked his Black ass with a hairbrush. And you know what? Like the submissive male slut he was, Joseph absolutely loved it. When I fucked him in the ass with my dildo for the first time, he completely surrendered to me. Joseph was the first of my Black male sex slaves, but he was far from the last. Fast forward more than two decades and I am still at it. Finding, seducing and sodomizing sexy Black men. I'm the only Black Mistress out there specializing in that sort of thing. Makes me kind of like a rare bird, eh? It's always fun to reminisce but I had to focus on the business at hand. And the business at hand required my absolute concentration. I'm going to fuck Saul's ass until the little punk begs for mercy. I drilled his ass with my thick, mean dildo and pounded him hard. He squealed like a little bitch, all pretence of machismo gone from him. I made him admit he was my little BITCH before I finally pulled my dildo out of his asshole. I spit in his now widened asshole. He looked stunned. I laughed and told him that's what I did to all my bitches. No exceptions. I towered over Saul, stroking my strap-on dildo victoriously. Moments later I undid his bonds. After all was said and done, Saul told me that he thoroughly enjoyed the experience though it was way more intense than he previously thought it would be. I nodded at that. Sometimes I go a little crazy while butt-fucking one of my Black male slaves. It's not my fault, okay? I'm the kind of Black woman who gets all hot and bothered just thinking about a Black man with a fine ass. I fantasize about banging them with my strap-on all day and every day, practically. Saul left my house, and I noticed he walked a little funny but he had a smile on his face. I think he'll be back. Cool. I haven't fisted a guy in a while and I'm dying to know how Saul is going to handle it once we get around to it. Can he take it? Only time will tell. I hope you enjoyed this tale, folks. And for those Black men out there with fantasies similar to Saul, know that turnabout is fair play. You screw us sisters all day, it shouldn't surprise you that some of us want to screw you right back...literally! Black on Black Pegging: School What's up, family? My government name is Anthony Heralds but you can call me Tone. Everybody does. I was born in the City of Miami, Florida, to a Haitian-American mother and Caucasian father. I consider myself purely African American, though. I'm a six-foot-two, lean and athletic, well-built brother with light brown skin, curly Black hair and hazel eyes. I recently graduated from Florida Agricultural and Mechanical University, also known as F.A.M.U. with my bachelor's degree in Criminal Justice. I always wanted to attend a historically Black college or university because I grew up in one of the Whitest parts of the State of Florida. Wasn't easy being me but I managed. Anyhow, these days I'm at the Florida Coastal School of Law. It's tough being school, man. Fortunately, I know how to unwind. My girlfriend Stacey Dipper ( yes, that's her actual name) is one fine mama. Five feet eleven inches tall, thick and curvy, with dark brown skin, wide hips and a big round ass. Stacey was born and raised in the City of Saint Catherine, Jamaica, and moved to the United States four years ago. This fine Jamaican mama is something else, man. I've always had a thing for them Caribbean women. The problem is that most of them aren't into guys like me. I'm half Black and half White. They accuse me of acting White and talking White. The African presence in the Caribbean is quite powerful and a lot of people from places like Haiti, Jamaica and Trinidad are deeply afro-centric. In time, I learned to compartmentalize. I 'act black' around Black folks and act professional when I'm at work and at school. It's tough but hey, it's a survival tactic. After dating White women most of my adult life, I thought I would end up with one but I met Stacey during my last year of undergrad at Florida A & M University. This tall, fine and sexy sister from Jamaica was just what the doctor ordered. She likes redbone guys like me and doesn't hide it. The fact that I dressed like a White dude didn't bother her. My father, legendary former Florida Attorney General ( and current Supreme Court Judge ) Arthur Heralds forbade me from associating with other Black males we saw on television while I was growing up. I was sent to a private Catholic school that was mostly White and all-male. I was forbidden from listening to rap music or to wear anything inspired by rap or hip hop culture. According to my father, all rappers were criminals and all Black athletes were buffoons. My pops didn't think Black men could ever amount to anything other than drug dealers, woman beaters and thugs. And this was a White man with a Black wife and mixed-race son! When I chose Florida A & M University over Princeton University, my father was mad as hell. I wished he'd understand why I did what I did. I'm biracial, not White. My father made me feel lousy about being part Black my whole life. He doesn't have a high opinion of Black males and constantly warned me about becoming 'one of them'. My mother, Cecilia Baptiste Heralds, also doesn't have a high opinion of Black men. Let me explain that last bit, please. You see, my mom was married to a Black guy when she lived in the Republic of Haiti and divorced him prior to emigrating to the United States. Apparently her Haitian ex-husband was abusive and when she left him because of that. When she met my father shortly after moving to Florida, he seemed like a White knight in shining armor. I grew up loathing half of myself because of my parents negative views of Black men. When I turned eighteen, the day after my high school graduation from Saint Joseph Academy, I told my mom and pops that I am a Black man. Then I accepted the scholarship offer from Florida A & M University and told Princeton University to kiss my African American behind. I haven't spoken to my parents since I left home that day. Life wasn't easy for me as a biracial student on the mostly African American campus of Florida Agricultural and Mechanical University. Were there other biracial students there? Of course. There were quite a few Hispanic, Asian and Caucasian students on campus too. However, everybody seemed to know where they fit in. I sure as hell didn't. I opted to study criminal justice, because I always wanted to be a lawyer. I do believe that lawyers can make a difference. Especially in the minority communities. The laws are already biased in favor of White men and White women. We need more Black men and Black women to become lawyers. And we need those lawyers to stand up for their communities. My brothers and sisters, we have to educate ourselves and stand up for our people. If we don't help ourselves, nobody else will. Trust me when I tell you that White folks don't give a shit about us. My father is White and he hates and fears Black men more than anything else in the universe. And my Black mother hates the brothers just as much. Sometimes my father would say the N-word while referring to Black guys he saw on the street and my mother did absolutely nothing to correct him. Why? Simply because she's just as racist as he is. Man, with such parents, no wonder I almost ended up in therapy! At F.A.M.U. I shared my story with some of the other African American students in the criminal justice program. Stacey Dipper was among them. The fact that this gorgeously tall Jamaican princess showed an interest in me amazed me, but I was never one to look a gift horse on the mouth. We became friends, then started dating. I fell in love with her, man. She is the first Black woman I ever had sex with. One night in the summer of 2011, we made love for the first time. It was during summer school, too. I was bound for Law school and Stacey was heading for her fourth year of undergrad at F.A.M.U. Let me tell you, there is nothing in the world like a Black woman's body. I fell in love with Stacey's magnificent feminine form. Her full lips. Her wide hips. Her big round ass. Her succulent, round breasts. Her sweet-tasting, hairy pussy. Hot damn. I became addicted to that woman, for real. Stacey taught me a thing or two, and she introduced me to the world of BDSM. As in whips and chains, the whole enchilada. And it's been an intense ride, man. We have all kinds of wicked, kinky fun with each other. Last night, Stacey tied me up, spanked me, flogged me with a whip and then fucked me with a strap-on dildo. Towering over me, looking scary and sexy while wearing nothing except her shiny ebony strap-on dildo, she really turned me on. Stacey stroked my long and thick, uncircumcised dick while lubricating my asshole. She rubbed some Aloe cream all over her dildo, then eased it into my anus. I grimaced as my sexy Jamaican goddess began fucking me in the ass with her strap-on dildo. Man, it hurt a bit at first but started feeling really good after a while. Stacey pumped her plastic cock into my ass. Amazingly, the more she fucked me with her strap-on dildo, the harder my dick got. And when all was said and done, I came like never before. I swear one of my cum shots hit the ceiling. Talk about intense! My sweetie wrapped her arms around me and kissed me. We embraced lovingly. We just discovered a kinkier way of making love. Black on Black Pegging: Schooled! I just had the toughest week ever, man. I came to class Monday and was informed by my Law professor that due to an administrative matter, I had been de-registered from the three classes I was taking. Now, as an international student at the University of Calgary, this was truly alarming news. I rushed to the Law Department head's office and he informed me that because I had an outstanding balance of eleven hundred dollars, the school was basically telling me to pay up or they wouldn't let me continue with my courses. Oh, and they told me that the registrar's office had been trying to contact me for two weeks now, meaning that I had five days to pay the balance or else. How in hell am I supposed to get that kind of money in five days? Sometimes, I feel that the universe is constantly kicking me in the nuts, man. My name is Derek Lancaster Blake. My friends call me D.L. Odd name for a Black man, I know. My dad Jonathan Blake is an immigrant from the town of Kingston, Jamaica, and my mom Muriel Kenney is a proud redneck woman with fiery red hair and green eyes from the City of Houston, Texas. I was born and raised in Texas and opted to study at the University of Calgary in metropolitan Calgary, Alberta, mainly because I was looking for a change of scenery. I did grow bored at Rice University in Houston. I visited the City of Calgary many times with my maternal grandfather Joel Kenney, or Grandpa Joe as everyone calls him. My mother's side of the family has long ties to the Alberta region of Canada. The State of Texas and the Province of Alberta are alike in a lot of ways, going deeper than just oil prospecting, cowboy hats and a love of guns. It's the country mindset, I guess, and I'm a country boy through and true. Anyhow, I needed to make some money. The problem is that I only have a student visa and a study permit. I don't have a Canadian work permit, or a social insurance number. I had four hundred dollars left in my Bank of America debit card and used it all to pay for school. I was still seven hundred dollars short. What's a brother to do? My partial scholarship at the University of Calgary covers room and board. I wouldn't starve, basically, and I had a place to stay, but if I didn't pay the school, I'd find myself on the street because my student visa was conditional on my being enrolled as a full-time student during my stay in Canada. Isn't that awesome, ladies and gentlemen? I couldn't call my grandfather because he was all the way in the City of Victoria, Australia, discussing oil with some colleagues of his from way back when. As for my parents, they were unreachable, enjoying their second honeymoon in the Bahamas. Dad's a lawyer and mom works as a schoolteacher. They're not the type to want to be disturbed when they take their vacation because they're workaholics. Now, I had to think. There had to be something that I could do to make some money in the City of Calgary. I was browsing the back pages of the Calgary Herald newspaper when I came across an ad. It said male models wanted. I called the number, and a lady answered. She asked me about my height and weight. What did I look like, that sort of thing. I'm six-foot-one by 230 pounds. I have light brown skin, curly Black hair ( which I braid sometimes ) and pale green eyes. I'm biracial, if you want to get technical, but I always answer African-American when people ask me about my ethnicity. Yup, my dad is a naturalized United States citizen originally from Jamaica and my mother is descended from old Irish blood that settled in Texas way back when. I'm as American as a burrito. Anyhow, I talked to the lady for a good ten minutes and she asked me all kinds of weird questions. How did I feel about male nudity? Was I sexually open-minded? That's when I realized that this wasn't a regular modeling call. This female was looking for some adult models! Now, the thought of being in certain situations where my sexuality and my manhood might come into question galled me. I'm a manly man from Texas and damn proud of it. Here's where it gets interesting. The lady asked me about my health status, and I thought long and hard about it. What the fuck did she mean by that? I don't have any illnesses that I can think of. People in my father's family have a history of diabetes and on my mother's side, they've got bipolar disorder, male pattern baldness and short tempers. As far as I know, I don't have any of these problems. I asked the mystery lady what she meant, and she sighed before telling me that she wanted to know about my HIV status. What the fuck? Oh, man. Alright. When I first moved to Calgary, I visited the All Nations Church, run by this pastor from Nigeria. They were stressing sexual health and male behavior that Sunday, and I ended up going to the Sexual Health Center in downtown Calgary the following Sunday, along with several young men from the church, just to get tested. As far as the doctors know, I don't have HIV or AIDs. And they gave me the paperwork to prove it. The lady at the other end of the line audibly relaxed after I said that, and told me to be at a certain location around 4 P.M. Oh, and I had to shower and bring the paperwork with me or not show up at all. I was kind of apprehensive about the whole deal, but she told me that if chosen, this so-called modeling gig would pay pretty well. Dude, I had no choice, alright? I showed up at the location, which turned out to be a residential area in the west end of Calgary. I'm no expert on Canadian real estate but the place looked pricy. I knocked on the door, and a tall, voluptuous Black woman in her early thirties greeted me. Clad in a long bathrobe, she looked really hot. I introduced myself as Derek, and she told me her name was Leila. Then she warmly asked me to come in. Once inside, I saw that she was not alone. There was a short, middle-aged White guy with brown hair and blue eyes with her and she introduced him as her husband, Gregory. I looked at Gregory and Leila. Interesting couple. I asked her what did the modeling gig entail, and she told me that her hubby and her made amateur porn. They were looking for fit-looking young guys to star in Mistress Black Star's fetish and domination videos. They showed me what they were talking about. I was shown pictures of Leila in a Black and crimson leather outfit, wielding a strap-on dildo and carrying a whip. In the pictures she dominated some guys who were tied up. Most of them were young White guys, but I noticed one Chinese guy and a Mexican-looking guy with a mustache among the guys being whipped, spanked and fucked by her strap-on dildo. Um, interesting, to say the least. Gregory smiled at me and told me that the porn industry in western Canada was really starting to kick off. Really? Wow. There is a porn industry in Canada? Who would have thought? The old dude went on, schooling me about the business. The City of Calgary was coming into its own as a North American metropolis. Soon it would rival Montreal and Toronto in importance and zest. More money was coming in, in many forms. Hence, the budding porn industry in this somewhat racially diverse but still conservative town. I scratched my head. Wow. Leila smiled and told me that they were looking to diversify the cast for their next movie. They already had an Arab guy, and a couple of Asian guys, but no Black man. I glanced at the pictures of men getting spanked by this fiery Black dominatrix, and involuntarily gulped. Fuck it, I need the money. I smiled at Gregory and Leila, and told them that they had just got themselves a Black man. Leila smiled wickedly, and in her eyes I saw the promise of hell. Ah, the things that a man will do for sex and money. Dear Lord in Heaven, will the list never end? Before anything began, Leila and Gregory wanted to see my identification. I had my Texas State driver's licence, my University of Calgary student id card, and my student pass for the bus system here in Calgary. They looked at them, made copies, and returned them to me. They also made a copy of my healthcare documentation, and then asked me to strip down. I stripped naked before the both of them, standing nude ( save for a mask which only covered my eyes ) in their living room and feeling slightly self-conscious. Gregory had a camera in hand, and asked me if I was down with it. Shoot, I had already signed on the dotted line so why not? Leila excused herself for a few minutes, leaving me alone with Gregory. The dude just kept filming me without saying anything. I found the old White dude seriously creepy. Still, I didn't let it show. I willed myself to get hard by thinking about Samirah, the big-booty Lebanese chick in my Criminology class. Might as well give old dude something cool to film, you know? A few minutes later, Leila came, having metamorphosed into her Mistress Black Star persona. The sexy Black lady looked hot and she seemed to mean business in her Black leather bustier and short red dress. And her thigh-high Black leather boots were hot as hell. Still, the strap-on dildo around her waist kind of gave me pause, as did the riding crop in her hand. She smiled nastily and asked me if I was ready for her. I nodded, and we went to the couch to do our business. I sat down and she knelt before me, grabbing hold of my cock and stroking it. Leila/Mistress Black Star knelt before me and began sucking my dick. I couldn't believe this shit. His wife was sucking my dick and Gregory just kept on filming. Alright, then. As Leila/Black Star engulfed my manhood in her warm mouth, sucking my dick and fondling my balls, I lost all train of thought. My dick was harder than Japanese arithmetic, man, and I couldn't get enough of this sexy Black lady's mouth on my magic stick... Leila/Mistress Black Star sucked me real good, then I put on a condom and we moved onto bigger and better things. And her husband Gregory just kept on filming, occasionally commenting and telling us to move this way or that. White guys are so weird, man. You won't find a lot of Black dudes who want to watch their wife get fucked by another guy, that's for sure. Still, they were paying me so I just did my thing, man. Leila spread her thighs, and I licked her pussy real good, sticking my fingers in her sweet spot while flicking my tongue over her clitoris. I had this foxy Black mama moaning in no time. For the next scene, I put on a condom and stuffed Leila/Mistress Black Star's pussy with my seven and a half inches of thick, uncircumcised man-meat. I'm not very long to be honest, but I am THICK. No lie. My dick is almost as thick as my wrist. And I'm a man with big hands. Just to give you some idea of what I'm working with. Leila/Mistress Black Star was moaning and tugging at the slave collar around my neck as I pumped my dick into her pussy. We did it like this for a good twenty minutes before Gregory yelled cut, and we all took a breather. Next came the strap-on dildo/domination scene, which understandably made me nervous as you can imagine. Leila promised to be gentle with me. As I would later discover, her definition of being gentle didn't match Webster's dictionary's. She bent me over her knee and spanked my Black ass, first with her hands then with a thick wooden paddle. Man, I tried not to scream but that wooden paddle slamming against my ass stung like hell and hurt like a motherfucker. I did scream a couple of times, through gritted teeth of course. Next, Leila put me in restraints before spreading my ass cheeks. She probed my ass with her gloved fingers, then applied lubricant all over my hole. Gregory filmed the whole thing of course. Was it my imagination or was the annoying old White bozo growing more excited as his sexy Black wife began dominating me for real? Sicko, man. Total sicko. Leila finished lubricating my ass, then asked me if I was ready. I nodded, and then she pressed the condom-covered strap-on dildo against my asshole. This is it, man. The moment of truth. I am a young Black man about to get fucked in the ass by a mature Black woman wearing a strap-on dildo. This is fucked up, man. Alright, who am I kidding? A part of me was excited while another part was terrified. Excitement won out over terror, and I grimaced as Leila began pushing her dildo into my ass. Leila gripped my hips as she pumped the dildo deep inside of me, stretching my hole. How to describe the feel of her dildo in my ass? It hurt, it stretched me, and it also felt good. Gregory continued filming, watching as his wife smacked my ass and tugged on my braids while sodomizing me with her strap-on dildo. The scene lasted a good fifteen minutes, which, while it doesn't sound long, is definitely an energy when you're bound and getting penetrated. It was definitely intense for sure. After Leila/Mistress Black Star pulled out of me, I took a moment to catch my breath. Leila and Gregory let me shower before I pocketed the money and left the premises. At last, I had the seven hundred dollars I needed, and I tried to put them in my account before paying my bill online. There's no way to deposit cash into a Bank of America account from Canada because there are no branches of Bank of America anywhere in Canada. I had to do a money order and send it to the school. The University of Calgary registrar's office needed a confirmation number from the transaction, and actual proof of payment before they would allow me to submit a request to be re-registered into my classes. So I did the next best thing, I made a copy of the money order and brought the copy and the receipt to them. That seemed to satisfy the anal Canadian academics I was dealing with. Thanks to my venture into what's considered the world's oldest profession, I would keep my ass in school. Still, when I went home that night, I couldn't stop thinking about what I did. While my mind was revolted at me for selling myself this way, my body was turned on. I checked my messages and saw that my grandfather had informed me of his return from Australia. And he missed me so much that he just deposited fourteen hundred in my Bank of America checking account. Just because he felt like it. That's awesome. Not that I'm ungrateful or anything but would it have been too much for him to send it a few hours earlier? Damn it! Black On Black Pegging: Scotia Sitting inside the Carleton University library, absorbed in her online research, Nova Scotia native Jessica-Lynn Joseph didn't notice the Black man until it was too late. Moving swiftly, he wrapped his strong arms around her and she yelped in surprise. Clamping his meaty hand over her mouth, he nuzzled her neck. Jessica-Lynn laughed, and playfully smacked Bruno's arm. The Boston-born African-American stud was a real riot. She loved/hated how he often got the drop on her. Bruno Lancaster laughed. He looked into his girlfriend's computer, and frowned. For a woman supposedly researching sociology, her computer was stuck on a peculiar website. A sex toy store. Bruno laughed as Jessica-Lynn hastily clicked out of the site. I was doing research, Jessica-Lynn said sheepishly. Bruno laughed. He looked at her, and shrugged. Why were women hell-bent on hiding the fact that they liked porn? Online researchers proved that one out of four people watching porn on the web was a woman. Women watched hardcore pornography, along with bondage stuff and also the more tame erotica stuff. Growing up in the City of Boston, Massachusetts, Bruno considered himself pretty much liberal. Even though he came from a somewhat conservative background. His father Ernest Lancaster emigrated to the State of Massachusetts from his native island of Jamaica as a young man in the 1980s. He studied Criminal Justice at what would later become Bunker Hill Community College and eventually became a Massachusetts Department of Corrections officer. As for Bruno Lancaster's mother, Elisabeth Hilton, she was one hundred percent Boston Irish. Her ancestors moved to the United States from Ireland centuries ago. The six-foot-tall, red-haired and green-eyed Bostonian fell for the intrepid Jamaican immigrant whom she met while teaching at Northeastern University in Boston and they got married. That's how Bruno Lancaster came into the world, on New Year's Day 1988. Twenty four years later, the six-foot-four, broad-shouldered and well-built, light-skinned, curly haired and hazel-eyed African-American stud was an outstanding academic. He played football for Boston College, where he earned his bachelor's degree in sociology. Then he opted to study in the prestigious Sprott School of Business at Carleton University in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. Bruno fell in love with a certain Canadian gal. Someone who was his polar opposite in just about every way. Bruno Lancaster, the tall and athletic son of a Jamaican-American law enforcement officer and a white female university professor, fell in love with a nerd. Jessica-Lynn Joseph. Black female nerd. Standing five feet eleven inches tall, slim and fit, with dark brown skin and short, curly Black hair, Jessica-Lynn Joseph was quite lovely. Or would be if she took care of herself. With her thick nerdy glasses and her fascination for every humanitarian cause that came her way, she really lived in her own little world. Jessica-Lynn Joseph, the daughter of a Haitian Catholic father and Black Nova Scotians mother. Raised in a strict Christian household, she was also quite religious. Jessica-Lynn Joseph attended church three times a week on average. Oh, and she also sang in the church choir. How she fell for a hard-drinking, hard-partying, skirt-chasing, man-about-town like Bruno, now that was one for the ages. They say that opposites attract, and in many ways that was absolutely true. Bruno looked at Jessica-Lynn, the young woman he had fallen in love with. Haitians and Black Nova Scotians lived on opposite sides of the world but they combined to create truly beautiful offspring. He'd seen beautiful women the world over but he had never met anyone with Jessica-Lynn Joseph's exotic good looks. And he was rather exotic himself, the son of a Jamaican man and Irish-American woman. Black and white. Nevertheless, he was mesmerized by her. Not only was she quite beautiful but she didn't seem to know it. There were many beautiful young women at Carleton University. Ottawa was one of Canada's most racially diverse towns, after all. Somali women. Ethiopian women. Brazilian women. Eritrean women. Albanian women. Haitian women. Italian women. Kosovo women. South African women. Lebanese women. Saudi women. Egyptian women. Yemeni women. Wow. Bruno Lancaster smiled as he ran his hand through Jessica-Lynn's hair. She smiled and continued typing her assignment on the computer. It was astonishing how much he loved this young woman. And it wasn't just because of her looks either. There was something about her. He'd seen female beauty in so many forms. And yet, he had never seen anything quite like Jessica-Lynn Joseph, the young woman whose beauty riveted his randy eyes. Yeah, Jessica-Lynn Joseph, or K-Joe, as her friends called her, was in a class by herself. He couldn't think of many women who could show up in class wearing coffee-stained gray sweatshirts, blue shorts and cowboy boots and somehow, um, make it look hot. Well, Jessica-Lynn Joseph did. Time after time. Lots of men and probably quite a few women on campus had a thing for her but she didn't seem to notice. She was too busy trying to save the world. Sometimes, he felt a bit neglected. Of course, he didn't tell her any of that. He played the part of the dutiful boyfriend. Jessica-Lynn noticed Bruno looking at her and grinned. She saved her research, and told him she wanted to go home. Home being her dorm which was ten minutes from the university library on foot. Bruno seemed morose so Jessica-Lynn playfully smacked his ass and told him she had a surprise for him. They walked slowly, hand in hand. Once there, Jessica-Lynn sprang on Bruno the surprise of a lifetime. The sexy African-American stud was surprised when his sexy Black Canadian girlfriend laid him down on her bed, and got naked. Well, she'd done that before. However, the strap-on dildo jutting about her hips was, um, something new. Jessica-Lynn smiled wickedly at Bruno and asked him if he liked his surprise. Bruno scratched his head. Um, when she put it like that... Bruno howled as Jessica-Lynn invaded his tight asshole with her strap-on dildo. The sexy Black Canadian dominatrix bent the hunky African-American stud over and worked her dildo up his ass while stroking his big Black cock. Laughing, Jessica-Lynn smacked Bruno's ass. The Black man from Boston wasn't so tough now that he was getting fucked in the ass. Jessica-Lynn enjoyed herself as she sodomized her man. How many times had she dreamed of taking him like this? Too many times to count. She considered herself a three-hole woman. She let him stick his dick in her mouth, pussy and asshole. The least he could do was let her do the same. She fucked his sweet ass and to really top things off, she pressed a special button on her mechanical strap-on dildo, unleashing hot artificial cum deep inside Bruno. The Boston man squealed. The Nova Scotia woman closed her eyes and exulted in her sensual victory. Who's the motherfucking bitch now? After this fantastic session of passionate fucking, Jessica-Lynn Joseph and her sexy boyfriend lay in bed together. Bruno held his sweetie in his arms, still amazed that the sweet and tender young Black woman nuzzling against his powerful chest was the same dominatrix who unleashed hell upon him moments ago. Wow. There were so many different sides to just about every woman on the planet. You simply never knew what they might reveal to you any day of the damn week. It certainly made for an interesting if challenging experience, that's for bloody sure. Still, the Boston guy was thrilled to have found the lady he felt he was meant to be with. A sexy Black goddess descended from the Black Loyalists of Nova Scotia, Canada. Isn't life grand? Black on Black Pegging: Sexism Digging up a Black man's asshole with my strap-on dildo like a miner looking for gold in the Yukon. A difficult task that most Black women would find a daunting challenge in this day and age. This looks like a job for me! My name is Camilla Jean Robert. Who am I? Only the hottest Haitian diva in the City of Montreal, Province of Quebec. The best place in Canada, if you ask me. And I was born and raised there. I'm a recent graduate of McGill University's MBA program and I work for the Bank of Montreal downtown. Well, that's my day job. At night I become Maitresse Noire, the top Black dominatrix in the entirety of Canada. Who says Haitian females are all uptight and conservative? Not me! Right now, I'm happily sodomizing a big Black guy named Salomon Saint-Preux. Dude just moved to the City of Montreal from his hometown of Cap-Haitien in the island of Haiti. Like a lot of Haitian guys from the Motherland, he's got a not so progressive mentality when it comes to women. I ran into him while visiting my girlfriend Nadege at the University of Montreal. Salomon is tall, big and handsome. A fine-looking brother studying civil engineering at the University of Montreal. Only problem is that he's sexist as hell and thinks women should be made to serve men. I recently dumped Ahmed, a Somali guy I was dating because he had such views. I thought Ahmed was that way because he grew up in a Muslim society in Mogadishu, Somalia, but I'm starting to believe most Black men share these views, whether they're Christian or Muslim. I mean, Salomon is a Catholic and he thinks himself superior to females just because he's got a dick between his legs. I had to disabuse him of that notion and the best way I came up with was to abuse his ass with my strap-on dildo. I have been involved in the BDSM lifestyle for three years now. I like to dominate people, both men and women. It's an easy way to make money. Besides, I've always been bossy as hell and controlling people and making them do what I want comes naturally to me. When Salomon asked me out, I accepted. Dude thought he was going to get in my pants. If only he knew that I was only baiting him in the hopes of entrapping him in exactly the kind of situation he found himself now. He's such an easy punk to trap it's not even a challenge. I brought him home, got him drunk and then I did my thing. I always had a fantasy of raping a man with my strap-on dildo. And not just any man. He had to be Black, and very masculine in appearance. No effeminate guys, no skinny bozos. I wanted to take a real man and fuck him up his ass with my strap-on dildo. Sodomize him until he whined like a little bitch. Yeah, that was the plan. I let Salomon take me dancing, and we hit the dance floor of a really cool club in the north side of Montreal, also known as Montreal's Little Haiti. Dude could move, which surprised me because I don't think of big and tall men as particularly graceful. Salomon surprised me, and I had a good time with him. Don't get it twisted. I still wanted to make him my bitch. I pretended to drink the beer he bought me and sipped on Pepsi while he downed one shot after another. Finally, when he had one too many, I took him home. To the folks inside the night club, I looked like a concerned girlfriend taking her man home after he got drunk. If they only knew. I took Salomon home, and laid him on the sturdy oak table in my basement. I took the strongest shackles I had and tied his hands and feet with them. I tied them really tight. I didn't want him to have even a snowball's chance in hell of escaping from me. I waited a couple of hours, then woke up the drunken bozo with a pitcher of ice water. That woke him up. For a few moments Salomon looked around, unsure of where he was. I stood over him, clad in a black leather outfit and mask. In my right hand I held a wicked-looking Swiss Army knife. Salomon looked at me with fear in those big eyes of his. When a man wakes up naked and finds himself tied up in a place which he doesn't know, and there's a strange woman with a knife standing dangerously close to his cock and balls, he's bound to panic. I looked at Salomon and told him that today was the day I took his manhood. He shrank from me, mumbling and whining. I advanced toward him and he recoiled, trying to get away. Except that he couldn't. Not with those thick steel chains holding him firmly in place. I looked at Salomon and laughed as I slashed his thigh, not deeply, just a superficial cut, with the blade. He howled. I clamped my hand over his mouth, effectively shutting him up. I looked him in the eyes and offered him a choice. Either he let me have my way with his ass or he'd lose his cock and balls. Interesting proposition, wouldn't you say? Guess what his answer was. That's why I've got him ass up right now, with my strap-on dildo buried so deep inside his asshole that I think his ancestors in the island of Haiti might feel it. Hot damn. I looked into Salomon's eyes, watching defeat and agony creep into them as I smacked him, spat on him and berated him while sodomizing him with my thick strap-on dildo. I pounded his ass really hard, wanting to make him pay for being such a narrow-minded, sexist jerk. In places like East Africa and parts of the Caribbean, Black men still think they own us Black women. Well, I'm a Black woman born in North America. I'm an independent woman and a strong one at that. I'm nobody's bitch. Not the Black man's bitch. Not the White man's bitch. I stand tall and challenge all comers. You hear that, Salomon? I twisted my dildo inside his asshole, then pressed a button in it, unleashing a torrent of hot artificial cum deep inside of him. Salomon howled, swearing infinite vengeance. I told him that I videotaped the whole thing, and that if anything ever happened to me, one copy of it would go to the police and another one would go to a porn company, which would make it go viral. All of his macho buddies from Haiti would know that a strong Black man like him let a little Black woman like me fuck his ass with a dildo. Once dudes found that out about him, he'd be done. I pulled my dildo out of Salomon's ass. Hmmm. My dildo was Black when it went inside of him but it came out brown. Yeah. Like that. I wiped it on Salomon's hairy chest. Feeling humiliated, he begged me to let him go. I did, but not before knocking his ass out. I dumped his naked ass two blocks from his house in Montreal-Nord. The next time I saw him, he couldn't look me in the eyes. I own his bitch ass. Black on Black Pegging: Shrinks I like to fuck Black men in the ass with my strap-on dildo. There, I frigging finally said it. I sat in the psychiatrist's office, and unburdened myself. Dr. Theodore Morrison, a six-foot-four, forty-something, balding Black guy in a sharp business suit, sighed deeply. The doctor's office, located near Baseline Road, is tastefully decorated. He studied psychology as an undergrad at Carleton University and later earned his Ph.D. at the University of Windsor. He's one of a few Black male psychiatrists in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. That's why I sought him out. I didn't think a White shrink could relate to what I go through in this town. Ever since I had a meltdown at work where I smacked some fool in the elevator for saying something racist to me, I've been ordered to see a shrink. It was either that or face assault charges, according to the crown prosecutor. As a minority woman in Canada's Capital region, I endure my share of racism but that doesn't mean I have to take shit from fools who think they're better than me because their skin is pale. If that makes me an angry Black woman, so be it. My name is Mala Osman and I'm a young Black woman of Somali descent living in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. Growing up in a strict Muslim household in my hometown of Edmonton, Alberta, made me feel bad about my natural sexual urges and I rebelled against that. As soon as I finished high school, I said adios both to my strict Muslim family and the restrictive ways of Islam. Now, don't get me wrong, I still believe in the Most High, I just don't like the sexism found in organized religion. Fast forward five years and I'm a student in the Sprott MBA program at Carleton University, having completed my bachelor's degree in Accounting at Algonquin College. Alberta and my family are far away, and I'm living La Vida Loca. I work for a Call Center in downtown Ottawa, making eighteen bucks per hour. I live in a nice apartment near Sandy Hill, and things are pretty nice for me right now. I am also doing fairly well in my personal life, ever since I started exploring the world of BDSM. Now, when most people think of a dominatrix, they don't visualize a six-foot-tall, chubby and sexy, absolutely bossy Black chick. They think of a skinny blonde in a leather outfit cracking the whip. Well, move over skinny White bitches because the Black dominatrix from Somalia is taking over the world of BDSM. I've explored the BDSM scene here in the City of Ottawa and it's mostly White, and full of middle-aged people. I'm twenty three years old and I'm considered exotic, alluring and uniquely sexy, which is just a polite way of saying I'm a beautiful woman of the non-White persuasion. I have always been bossy, but I didn't know I was a dominatrix until I started watching BDSM-type porn and found out I liked to inflict pain, both physical and psychological, upon others. When I set up an ad in the back pages both online and in newspapers, I found a clientele ready to embrace me. Apparently lots of men of all shades and a few women were eager to explore their submissive sides at the hands of a strong, dominant Black woman. Well, that's why I am here, ladies and gentlemen. To the tune of three hundred dollars per hour, non-negotiable, I would dominate the hell out of the shmucks and bitches who came my way. I set up a dungeon in Vanier, and the room only cost me three hundred and sixty dollars a month. I used it an average of four times a week, to entertain my clients, and I made quite a lot of money. One of my regulars is a middle-aged White guy named Ralph Tremblay. You know the type, a Conservative White dude who doesn't like immigrants, and worships our dickhead of a Prime Minister, that asshole Stephen Harper, and yet secretly lusts after women of color. That type of White dude laughs at anti-minority jokes made by his White friends when they're out together but he craves women who are Asian, Hispanic, African, Arabian or pretty much anything other than the boring White women he sees every day. I had no problem dominating the hell out of Ralph because it's exactly what he deserves. I would tie him up, and make him wear a frilly pink dress before I shoved a dildo up his ass while berating him. And the White bozo loved every minute of it. Ralph certainly loved playing the role of the White male slut for me, his dominant Black mistress. I like to degrade White guys because, to me, they're all racist shmucks and they deserve it. However, I didn't want to be like the other Black women I met in the realm of BDSM. They seem to cater exclusively to White males. Well, that's not me. I don't discriminate based on color. Which is why I have a wonderful working relationship with a Black male submissive named Charles Joseph. The first time Charles Joseph called me on the special cell phone I have for clients, I was excited because I could tell he was Black. When he told me that he was mixed, and was raised in the City of Montreal, Quebec, by a Haitian immigrant father and White Canadian mother, I was tickled pink. I love them biracial guys. Always had a weakness for them. What is it with mixed guys being fascinated by us strong Black women? Look at Barack Obama and his wife Michelle. Hmmm. That's why I had so much fun with Charles when he came by the dungeon. Tall, muscular and lean, with light brown skin, lime-green eyes and curly Black hair, he was sexy as hell. Half Black and half White and purely beautiful. I told Charles what I did, and he was down with it. Brother forked over the cash and we had fun. I don't normally do this for my clients but before I strapped Charles down, I sucked his dick. I enjoyed the taste of his long and thick ebony cock in my mouth. Looks like this mixed dude got the best of both worlds. He's fine, in a Vin Diesel/Blake Griffin kind of way, and he's got a big ole dick. After I finished sucking Charles dick, I hopped on for a ride. Charles wasn't expecting this but he put his hands on my hips and smacked my big Somali butt as I impaled my cunt on his hard dick. Wrapping my arms around the mixed stud, I told him to fuck me hard. Charles did just that, ramming his dick inside of me and pumping his cock up my cunt like there was no tomorrow. For like half an hour we fucked, and my cunt milked every drop of cum from Charles dick. I definitely broke a lot of my rules with that dude, but it was worth it. I put the whammy on Charles right after we finished fucking. I tied him up on the table and then lubricated his asshole with Aloe cream. Then I donned a strap-on dildo and raised Charles legs in the air, resting them on my shoulders as I angled myself into position. Looking into Charles eyes, I pushed my dildo into his asshole. Oh damn, Charles moaned as I began fucking him. I smacked his face real hard and the brother turned red, apparently stunned. I am the mistress and you're my bitch, I reminded him. I pumped my dildo into Charles ass, and the tough young brother screamed as I rear-ended him with my strap-on. I made him my bitch that day, and he thanked me for it. Charles and I have been seeing each other regularly ever since. All these things I revealed to the good doctor. After that explosive encounter with Charles, I've gone on a rampage looking for Black guys to fuck with my strap-on. I've picked them up in clubs, in restaurants, and on Facebook. I even joined the BDSM social networking site Fetlife to seek Black male submissive types to ravage. The brothers have been lining up at my door and I love it. Apparently, lots of Black guys dream of getting fucked in the ass by a strong Black woman wearing a strap-on dildo. And I'm happy to make their dreams come true. I looked at Dr. Morrison and noticed that the good doctor looked skittish after hearing tales of my sexual exploits. Can my addiction be cured doc? I said, and removed my strap-on dildo and lubricant tubes from my purse for effect. The middle-aged Black psychiatrist looked pale, and I noticed he had a bulging erection. I knew the look on his face. Another Black male submissive badly in need of a strong Black woman to dominate the hell out of his ass. Get on your knees doc, I ordered, as I donned my strap-on, and the doctor did as he was told. Another one bites the dust, ladies and gentlemen. Forty five minutes later, I left Dr. Theodore Morrison's office, after bending the good doctor over and stuffing his Black ass with my well-lubricated strap-on dildo. You should have heard how loudly he screamed. I made him my bitch, and he loved it. Dr. Morrison signed the papers I needed to stop the sessions, and now the province of Ontario and the Crown Prosecutor are off my back. And best of all, I gained a new client. I'm thinking of starting a veritable cult. Black male worshippers of the dominant Black goddess who packs a mean strap-on dildo. What do you think? Black on Black Pegging: Somaliland Abu Khaled woke up, sweating profusely. The big and tall Black man looked around for a moment, feeling disoriented, before he remembered where he was. He was in his apartment in the town of Orleans, in the Ontario region of Canada. He was safe. It was all a dream, he told himself. For months now he'd been having those dreams. And these dreams were so damn intense that they left him questioning a lot of things about himself. Things no man should question, such as one's masculinity and sexuality. Abu Khaled was born in the town of Mogadishu, Somalia, to a Somali mother and Iranian father. On July 4, 2012, he would turn twenty eight. That kind of milestone makes a man think about a lot of things. Abu lay in bed, deep in thought. He'd done a lot in his twenty-something years. He had a Master's degree in business administration from Carleton University in the City of Ottawa, Ontario. He was presently working for the Canadian Revenue Agency, as one of a few Black males within the nationwide organization. Although the majority of Somalis were Muslims, Abu Khaled had a secular mindset and his lifestyle reflected it. He had seen firsthand what religious zeal could do. And he wanted no part of it. Religion could be a destructive force in the lives of many if left unchecked. It tore apart his folks marriage. His father Abdullah Khaled was a Shiite Muslim from the Islamic Republic of Iran. His mother Aisha was a Sunni Muslim from the nation of Somalia. Such differences meant little to westerners but in the Arab/Muslim world, they were often cause for war. His parents divorcing after more than twenty years of marriage and his mother's death at the hands of his father shattered whatever faith Abu had left, either in Islam or in the institution of marriage itself. Religion and culture were responsible for much strife in the world today. That's why there was tension between the great nation of Turkey and the Republic of Syria these days, and the predominantly Sunni rulers of the Saudi kingdom were rousing the Arab world and their friends in the Western world against Iran. Abu Khaled considered all this friction over slight differences within the same religion to be pointless. He lived in Canada, and embraced the ideals of religious freedom, democracy and secular government. The foundations of Western society. His family disapproved but Abu was grown, and independent. He could do whatever he wanted. Working as an executive for the Canadian Revenue Agency, he raked in eighty eight grand a year. Well, his net pay was one hundred and three grand a year but taxes in Canada were astronomical so he considered himself lucky they didn't take more of his pay. Abu Khaled was a man of many passions. And he indulged every single one of them. He wasn't like the other Somalis, brainwashed by the Arab culture which influenced so many African Muslims. Abu Khaled partied hard, drank, and chased beautiful women. He hadn't set foot in a mosque in almost a decade and had no desire to change that. For the most part, he didn't associate with other Muslims. Not unless they were secular minded like him. As an educated Black male of partial Somali descent, a man with a good career, a nice house and a nice car, he was seen as quite a catch by the Somali women of Ottawa. The thing about Somali women is that while they act all pious and friendly, deep down they don't think much of Somali men. They think Arab men are made out of gold. And they chase them to all the corners of the earth. A lot of Arab men took Somali women as wives. Since they were both Muslim, there were no problems. However, those same Arab men who found Somali women so appealing got mad when they saw Somali men even talking to Arab women. Arab male jealousy was quite something. It caused the death of Abu Khaled's mother, and the imprisonment of his father at the maximum security penitentiary in the City of Kingston, Ontario. Abu Khaled considered himself an orphan. He had no parents to pressure him to marry so he could lead his life the way he wanted. He looked at the woman lying next to him. Brenda something or other. Tall, blonde-haired and blue-eyed. A lovely lady of the Caucasian persuasion. Abu Khaled met her at the Honest Lawyer bar in downtown Ottawa, not far from the Rideau Shopping Center where she worked as a cell phone salesclerk. He picked her up, and brought her home for a night of fun. Brenda turned out to be a lot of fun indeed. The sexy blonde chick loved chocolate dick and wasn't shy about sucking it or riding it. Abu had a lot of fun with her. He bent her over his living room couch, smacked her nicely rounded White ass and pulled her blonde hair while drilling his cock into her cunt. Brenda screamed obscenities and urged him to fuck her harder. Abu had no problem slamming his cock into her slick cunt. White chicks in the Capital region of Canada were just discovering men from places like Africa, southeast Asia and the Middle East, and they were going crazy for brown cock. White men had been sampling the sexual mores of women of color for ages. Now it was men of color's turn to sample White women. And there was a lot of sampling going on. They fucked for a couple of hours, then fell asleep. Abu lay next to Brenda, watching her sleep. The next morning he sent her packing. Find, fornicate and forget. That was his way of dealing with women these days. And he'd fucked so many of them. Lebanese women. Eritrean women. Jamaican women. French Canadian women. Italian women. Chinese women. So many endless varieties of ladies here in the capital of Canada. Abu Khaled almost convinced himself that he didn't have...other desires. His other desires took him to Mademoiselle Ambrosia. A tall, sexy young Black woman hailing from the Haitian community of Montreal-Nord in the Province of Quebec. Mademoiselle Ambrosia was new to Ottawa, Ontario, where she set up shop as a professional dominatrix. Abu Khaled was curious about the world of female domination and male submission. The BDSM universe fascinated him. According to many people in BDSM forums online, Black Dominatrix types like Mademoiselle Ambrosia were the best. He visited her website and contacted her. Mademoiselle Ambrosia firmly believed that women were the superior species and men were made to serve women. She didn't think much of Islam, which seemingly elevated men while lowering women. Abu had to beg her for a session, and he assured her that he wasn't like the other Muslim men out there. He believed in hard drinking, partying and chasing women. He wasn't a religious nutcase with delusions of grandeur. He was as secular as they came. Mademoiselle Ambrosia seemed to sense his sincerity and agreed to a session. And it turned into an encounter he would never forget. Abu Khaled showed up at Mademoiselle Ambrosia's apartment in the Vanier sector of Ottawa, Ontario. The lady greeted him wearing a sexy Black leather miniskirt and red tank top. She was tall and sexy, with dark brown skin, neatly braided Black hair and an ass that tennis pro Serena Williams would envy. First things first, though. Abu Khaled wanted a ninety-minute session and her website clearly stated that she expected three hundred dollars. He didn't mind. Before they got started, she sat him down in her living room and offered him a drink. Then she explained her rules. Safe words, blah and blah. They got started, and Abu Khaled had the experience of a lifetime. First, she tied him up over a wooden bench. His arms and legs were firmly bound by thick steel chains. Then she began spanking his ass with her bare hand while also flogging his back with a sharp flogger. Abu Khaled groaned as he got spanked and whooped by the sexy Black Dominatrix. Mademoiselle Ambrosia really let him have it. She didn't get to dominate macho-looking Black guys like Abu half as often as she liked, since most of her submissive types were White males. She had a great time as she tormented this ebony stud in the most exquisite of ways. She spanked him, flogged him, smacked his face, spat on him and berated him. Her favorite part of the whole thing came when the moment of truth arrived. Mademoiselle Ambrosia donned her strap-on dildo and spread Abu Khaled's ass cheeks wide open. With gloved fingers the Haitian dominatrix explored the bound Somali male's ass. His ass was clean, and kind of tight. Cool. She applied lubricant to his hole, then told him she was going to fuck him. Abu Khaled choked back a cry. It was really happening. She was going to sodomize him with her strap-on dildo. The Black dominatrix was going to turn him, a strong Black man, into one of her whiny little bitches. Yes! Mademoiselle Ambrosia could sense Abu Khaled's eagerness as she began inserting the dildo into his asshole. The Somali stud hailed from a the nation of Somaliland, an Islamist country where men ruled and women had no rights. She would definitely enjoy dominating a guy like him and showing him who's the boss. Somali or not, Muslim or not, he was a Black man. And in the Black communities of the twenty-first century, Black women lead and Black men follow. Nothing that the Lord Jesus Christ or the Prophet Mohammed could do about that. With a gleeful scream, Mademoiselle Ambrosia shoved Abu Khaled's ass cheeks wide open and shoved her plastic cock into him. And she sank it deep. The big Somali man howled as his ass got penetrated deeply by the Black dominatrix's strap-on dildo. She held his hips tightly, berating him while sodomizing him with her dildo. Mademoiselle Ambrosia felt her pussy get all wet and tingly with excitement as she drilled her dildo into Abu Khaled's ass. She smacked his ass, loving the way it jiggled as she fucked him. In her five years of working all over Canada and America as a professional dominatrix, Mademoiselle Ambrosia dominated a total of one hundred and seventeen men, along with forty three women. Abu Khaled was the first Black man and the second Black person she ever dominated. This called for a celebration, and she celebrated this momentous occasion by fingering her cunt while pounding his hairy Somali ass with her dildo. The Somali stud huffed and puffed, groaned and moaned. In the end, just like all of the so-called tough guys who came to her, he howled and squealed. Only then did she pull her dildo out of his ass. It was a bit dirty so she'd have to wash it later. Which she always did anyway. Mademoiselle Ambrosia undid Abu Khaled's bindings, and the big Somali stud slumped on the carpeted floor of her dungeon slash basement. She knelt beside him and asked him if he was okay. The big Somali man rolled over and smiled, telling her that he felt great. Without being prompted he knelt before her, thanking her for a wonderful time. Mademoiselle Ambrosia smiled, and gently patted his head. Her first Black male submissive. Quite a milestone in the life of a Black dominatrix who dominated all races and genders for fun and profit, yet still loved her people. Abu Khaled showered then left Mademoiselle Ambrosia's apartment. He went home feeling like a million bucks. That was a few weeks ago. Ever since then, he'd been dreaming about the sexy Black dominatrix nonstop. Back in his bedroom, Abu Khaled looked at Brenda's sleeping form. The blonde-haired White gal was beautiful but the Black stud was bored with her. He needed a bossy Black woman, and only one would do. He would have to schedule another session with Mademoiselle Ambrosia. Black On Black Pegging: Somalis I think the well-being of the international Black community would be much improved if Black men and Black women simply learned to communicate with one another. My name is Dhakiyah Falak Dawson. I was born and raised in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. The only daughter of an immigrant mother originally from the City of Mogadishu in the nation of Somalia. Oh, and I'm bisexual. What I'm about to tell you is deeply confidential information. I could lose my head for this. Psych! I'm just messing with you. This tale took place during my sophomore year at Carleton University, shortly after I decided to get serious with my boyfriend Amir Abdul-Hamid. A little background info about myself before we get to the important stuff, if you please. The life of a young Black woman in Canada is never easy. Seriously. We all got stereotypes about ourselves which we must face daily. I stand six feet tall, slim but curvy where it counts, with medium brown skin and long Black hair. People say I resemble the African-American singer Alicia Keys, only with tennis champion Serena Williams booty. I don't take these statements as a compliment because I am my own woman. I am Dhakiyah, not some amalgamation of Black female celebrities from America. Anyhow, where was I? Most of my life, I grew up hearing negative things about Black men, especially the ones from the Muslim world. My mother, Atifah Falak emigrated from the nation of Somalia when she was twenty, and pregnant with me. She gave birth at Ottawa's Civic Hospital on the first day of February 1988. Making me as Canadian as maple syrup. My mother left my father Ahmed Falak in Somalia because he was a control freak and an abusive guy. Shortly after she arrived in Canada, my mother met Eric Dawson, a handsome Irish accountant originally from the City of Galway, Ireland. Fast forward a few years and they got married. My mother took Dawson's family name, and gave birth to twin daughters, Isabel and Soraya. My mother renounced her Islamic faith and embraced Catholicism, Eric Dawson's religion. To Somali folks living in the Confederation of Canada as well as Somalia, a Somali woman converting to Christianity to marry a white guy would seem scandalous. However, my mother did it because she loved Eric and also because she was fed up with the controlling men of the Muslim world. Thus, I was brought up Catholic. Growing up, I often heard my mother warning me never to marry a Somali guy. According to her, Somali guys were all abusive and controlling. They claimed to be following Islam by asserting their control over Somali women but my mother thought it was all bullshit. By some miracle my mother was spared the nightmare of female genital mutilation, but she knew countless Somali women who suffered that grisly fate. That's why my mother fled to Canada, where she married a white guy and became a Canadian citizen. While I was horrified by the nightmarish situation of women in Somalia, I refused to believe that all men from that country were monsters hell-bent on controlling the women in their lives. That seemed like an overly easy classification to me. There had to be some exceptions to that rule. Living in the City of Ottawa, I attend a Catholic school and had mostly white friends. My mother was friends with several African women who defied their families and social customs by marrying white males in the Confederation of Canada. Most of my mother's female friends came from continental Africa and had non-Black husbands. I found it funny that my mother detested my friend Adam's father Joel McCain, a Jamaican-born and Ottawa-based corporate lawyer who married a white policewoman from Orleans. Apparently, Black women with white husbands couldn't stand Black men with white wives. These two interracial couples simply did NOT get along. White men with Black wives still bristled at the sight of Black men with white wives. The sheer hypocrisy of people in interracial relationships boggles the mind. Seriously. It's a good thing that I was never into white guys because I would have ended up exactly like my mother. The last thing I wanted to be was one of those bitter Black women who worshiped whiteness and loathed their own race. In spite of my parents best efforts, I grew up with nothing but love for my African brothers and sisters. When I came to Carleton University, I finally felt free. Even though my parents were only an hour away in the Ottawa suburb of Barrhaven, I felt like I could do anything. I opted to live in a small apartment near the Saint Laurent Mall, twenty minutes from the Carleton University campus. I chose to study business administration at Carleton because I grew up in a mostly English environment. Most of the French Canadian brats coming out of the many high schools in the City of Ottawa opted for the University of Ottawa, a fully bilingual school. Some went to La Cite Collegiale, an exclusive French college in the town of Orleans, Ontario. I always found French Canadians to be whiners so I didn't want to study at a school full of them. The Canadian government gives a ton of money to the Province of Quebec every year because they're always threatening to separate from the rest of Canada. If you ask me, Canada is better off without Quebec. Anyhow, I digress. Where was I? Oh, yes. I was telling you about my dear Amir Abdul-Hamid. The first time I saw him inside the Carleton University library, I thought he was fine as hell. At least six feet two inches tall, broad-shouldered and well-built, with dark brown skin, curly Black hair and pale brown eyes. I knew he was Somali just from looking at him. Imagine my surprise when I found out he didn't speak the Somali language at all. Amir Abdul-Hamid was an international student at Carleton University. Although he was born in Somaliland, he had been adopted by a white couple in the City of London, England. Luther and Annabelle Wellington adopted Amir Abdul-Hamid and raised him as their own. Amir held British citizenship, and he was raised in the Anglican faith. Wow. A Somali male raised in the Christian faith. Now I've seen everything! Amir seemed ill at ease with the Somali students at Carleton University. Many Somali girls at the school noticed him but didn't know what to make of him either. He had a silver cross around his neck, symbol of the Christian religion. He wasn't raised Muslim. Also, he didn't speak any Somali or Arabic. Oh, and he walked around with Carleton University women's rugby player Beatrice O'Malley, a red-haired white chick from the City of Calgary, Alberta. Home of the rednecks of Canada. I found Amir uniquely cute and appealing. And I was determined to catch this tasty fish for myself. I approached him one afternoon inside the University Center. He was sitting at a table, sipping on a Pepsi. His paramour Beatrice was nowhere to be found. Good. I introduced myself, and asked him about himself. Amir seemed really shy at first, but I got him to loosen up. He opened up to me after finding out that I was raised in Ottawa and practiced Catholicism, the faith of my adoptive father Eric Lawson. Also, I didn't speak a lick of Somali or Arabic. I was a Canadian-born Somali female Christian sitting next to a Somali-born Christian male raised in England. How about that? We were definitely unique. Our conversation was rudely interrupted by Beatrice O'Malley. The tall, butch-looking redhead glared at me when she saw me talking to her man. Amir had a guilty look on his face as he introduced me to Beatrice. Beatrice sat down, bristling. I could tell that she didn't like me. A lot of white females across Canada and America feel that Black males are their own personal sex toys. They get really territorial around Black women when they see us eyeballing 'their' men. I smiled coldly at Beatrice as I continued talking to Amir about the Christian faith and its growing influence in traditionally Muslim countries such as Lebanon and Iran. I've always been proud of my Christian faith. To me, Islam had way too many restrictions. It's the most oppressive religion of all if you're a woman. I'm not just saying that because of my mother but because I've done my research. Women should always do their research before changing their religion to please the man they're with. One white female Muslim convert who traveled to the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia with her Saudi-born husband has been stuck there ever since because the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia denies women freedom of movement without the expressed permission of either their fathers or their husbands. That's one of the most basic tenets of Sharia Law. Walking around the big cities of Canada, I smile pityingly at non-Muslim Canadian women I see dating Muslim guys from Africa and the Middle East. If they only knew these men's true views of women's rights. They would shudder in revulsion and flee. After our talk, Beatrice and Amir left, and Amir smiled wistfully at me and wished me a good day. Beatrice shot me a cold look as they walked away. I smiled, knowing what she feared. The fact that Amir was mine for the taking. I could tell by the look on his eyes that he was fascinated by me. That night, I added Amir Abdul-Hamid on Facebook. The next day, we met inside the campus library to study. I got to know him much better. Amir was a really nice, friendly guy. Being raised in England by a white couple turned him into a decent, friendly and open-minded guy as far as religion and women's rights was concerned. He found Middle-Eastern's men treatment of women to be appalling. Also, he was a staunch Christian who proclaimed his faith everywhere he went. He stunned me by declaring that he was actually waiting for marriage before having sex. A fact that annoyed his girlfriend Beatrice O'Malley, who wanted to 'jump his bones'. Wow. Amir is a virgin, eh? Now I've seen everything. Seducing him away from Beatrice was going to be easier than I thought. My plan worked like a charm. I went everywhere with him, always taking up his attention and making sure he didn't have much time for Beatrice. After a month of this, she dumped him. Game, set and match. A distraught Amir turned to me, and I comforted him. Am I good or what? Amir was a really cool guy, but sexually he seemed clueless. I kissed him in the back of the library one time and he just froze. I was growing frustrated with him. I'm by no means a virgin. I've been sleeping with girls and guys for a while. By far I prefer men. They're naughtier. Women are boring. Still, I wondered if Amir was too much of a good Christian to lust after my sexy body like a good man should. I looked inside his computer, and what I found amazed me. The guy had enough porn stashed away to satisfy an entire army! And what kinky porn! Ninety percent of them involved female domination scenarios. Women spanking men. Women beating men with belts and whips. Women doing men with strap-on dildos. Wow. Amir is a naughty bastard, eh? I confronted him with the evidence of his misdeeds. That's when he tried to deny it. He even claimed his roommate was responsible for it. I looked inside his computer history. The guy had been accessing female domination porn since 2009. Amir broke down and confessed that he was turned on by 'female dominance' porn and didn't know how to stop. I smiled and gently kissed him on the lips. Ask and you shall receive, my brother. I took Amir home, and told him I could 'take care' of him. And I did not disappoint. Once we got to my apartment near Saint Laurent Mall, I stripped to my bra and panties. I admired myself in the mirror as I donned my shiny, ebony-colored and totally awesome, vibrating strap-on dildo. I surprised the hell out of Amir in the living room. His eyes widened like saucers when he saw me. I smiled naughtily, and told him to come to me. Amir hesitated, but I promised him a wonderful time. And I did not disappoint. Fear and lust dueled in Amir's mind. Lust won over fear. My sexy man joined me in the bedroom, and we did our thing. Amir stripped to his boxers, rewarding my hungry eyes with the sight of his sexy body. He was hot as hell. Great shoulders, well-cut abs, solid arms, great legs and a nice round ass. I like a brother with a nice ass. And Amir had an ass this horny sister wanted to bite. Hmmm. I stood there, running my hands through his curly hair as he knelt before me and sucked my strap-on dildo. I looked in the mirror, admiring our reflections as he sucked me off. Amir sucked the dildo with gusto. Hmmm. He seems pretty good at this for a first-timer. I stopped him, and then went down on him. I took Amir's big dick in my mouth. To my immense surprise, Amir was uncircumcised. I've been with a few uncut guys before but they were mostly Afro-Brazilian guys from Toronto. I had never heard of an uncircumcised Somali guy. Amir told me that his British adoptive parents didn't believe in circumcision. How cool is that? I kind of like uncut guys. They have really sensitive cocks that are fun to play with. Let's see if Amir meets my standards. I flicked my tongue over his cock after pulling back the foreskin and I sucked his balls. Amir moaned in pleasure as I went down on him. I guess it was his first blowjob because he came pretty quick. I drank his cum. He tasted hot and salty. Hmm. I had never been with a Somali man before, and I'm a Somali-Canadian woman. The brother tasted wonderful. Afterwards came the time to get strapping. Amir was understandably nervous but I promised him I'd be gentle. And I was. I put him on his back and raised his legs in the air. I put on gloves before lubricating his asshole with Aloe Cream and then fingering his ass. Then I gently pressed the tip of the dildo against his ass and stopped. Looking him in the eyes, I asked him if he was ready for me. Amir nodded. Gently, I eased the dildo inside of him. Amir grunted as I penetrated him, but other than that he seemed fine. I took my sweet time as I worked the dildo into his asshole. Slowly but surely I worked most of it up there. Amir seemed uncomfortable at first, but really enjoyed himself as I began earnestly fucking him with my strap-on dildo. He stroked his cock as I fucked him and I swear it got bigger and harder as I pushed the dildo deeper into his ass. I suddenly realized why. Men's G-spot is located in their butts, near the prostate gland. The more stimulated it gets, the more turned on they become. I fucked Amir good, sinking the dildo into the depths of his virgin asshole. He screamed. He howled. He came. And he absolutely loved what I did to him. A little while later, Amir and I kissed passionately. I picked up a condom and put it on his dick, then hopped on for a ride. Again Amir was nervous and I had to guide him through it. I was actually the one who inserted his hard dick in my pussy, believe it or not. Once he was inside of me he began fucking me with vigorous thrusts. The guy might be new to sex but his male instincts kicked in and he knew just what to do. I'm happy to say that Amir did not disappoint in the sack, folks. My sweet and sexy man fucked me good. We went at it for hours, in several different positions. We had a lot of fun together. I've got a lot to teach him but I know it's going to be fun. He's such a promising student when it comes to all things sexual. Amir left my pussy pleasurably sore after a night of hot sex. I can't wait till I can get him in my bed again. And again. I'm so glad I met him. We're going to be amazing together! By showing the world that modern-day Somalis are open-minded about sexuality and religion, that we value gender equality and self-expression, and we're fun together. Black on Black Pegging: Strapped Combatting sexism and patriarchy in the African-American community, that's every sister's concern. My name is Christine Soleil and I'm a young Black woman of Haitian descent living in the City of Hartford, Connecticut. My parents Jean-Pierre and Lucinda Soleil moved to Connecticut from their hometown of Cap-Haitien in North Haiti when I was real young. As far as I know, Hartford has always been my home. I'm now a student at the University of Hartford, and also a practitioner of BDSM. That most ardent of all forms of sensual expression. I recently introduced my new husband Mohammed Dahir to the wonderful world of BDSM and he's slowly adjusting to it. You see, Mohammed is a recent convert to Christianity. He grew up under the patriarchal system of Islam in the City of Mogadishu, Somalia. He's been living in the United States of America for ten years now and has recently found the truth in Jesus Christ and adopted Catholicism as his new faith. Mohammed Dahir, my husband renounces Islam, embraces Catholicism and women's equality. As the junior vice president of the Christian Women's Foundation of Hartford, a proud Catholic and a known feminist, I am happy with the profound changes my husband has undergone. From the moment I met Mohammed Dahir in my sociology class at the University of Hartford, I wanted him. How could I not? He stood six feet two inches tall, slim, with light brown skin, curly Black hair and pale gray eyes. Born in the nation of Somalia to Abu Dahir, a Somali father and Atifah Abdullah, a Saudi Arabian mother. This biracial stud from Somalia was one sexy bastard. Mohammed Dahir moved to the State of Minnesota from the Capital region of Somalia with his family about a decade before we first met. He transferred to Hartford University in the state of Connecticut from the University of Minnesota at Saint Paul. The moment this tall Black stud arrived on campus, both Black chicks and white women began circling around him like vultures. Tall, good-looking young Black men have that effect on university women. And I was not exactly immune. I was determined to make him mine. However attractive he was, there were some things about Mohammed Dahir which I found unacceptable. For starters, at the time we met he still believed in the deeply patriarchal doctrines of Islam. That is not cool. I am a proud Christian woman and there is no way in hell that I would ever consider switching religions. Now, I got nothing against Islam, even though I think it is radically against the ideals of gender equality. Feminism and Islam simply don't mix. I like having the right to vote. I like to be protected by law against honor killings, religiously sanctioned domestic violence and other evils. Oh, and I think women and men should be allowed to share the same space inside a mosque. And if Islam were really progressive they would accept female Imams leading both men and women in prayer rather than to simply hand over all power to the man. That's patriarchy at its worst. Anyhow, where was I? I set out to seduce Mohammed Dahir. And change him into something acceptable to me. How does a Black Christian woman from New England turn a Somali-American Muslim male into a good Christian man with a penchant for kinky sex? It was easier said than done but I am the kind of woman who likes a challenge. I approached Mohammed one day in the campus library and that's how we became friends. Mohammed was quite shy and actually friendly. I thought all Muslim guys were loud and bossy. I mean, have you ever heard of Saudi Arabia's King Abdullah or his close friend the Honorable Louis Farrakhan? I thought Mohammed Dahir would be like these guys but I guess I was kind of wrong about them on some aspects. Mohammed was pretty nice. We walked around campus, talking about everything from politics to science, social issues and religion. Now, religion was a touchy subject with us. Mohammed Dahir was raised in a deeply conservative Muslim country. Both the Somali people and the Saudis are deeply conservative in mindset and culture. And this guy had a Somali father and Saudi mother! I had to tread carefully. My opinions on the subject of Mohammed Dahir's religion were well-known on campus. I am a staunch Christian with liberal views. I'm okay with same-sex marriage. I'm against racism and sexism. And I'm against the removal of Judeo-Christian values and doctrines as part of the fabric of Western society. Presently, the European Union is under assault by North African and Middle-Eastern immigrants who refuse to integrate into proper European society and clash with Western values of democracy and gender equality because of their repressive religion. I'm against Sharia Law ever gaining a foothold in America, Europe, Canada, Australia, New Zealand or any other civilized country or organization that believes in democracy and gender equality. Islam treats women badly and encourages violence against homosexuals, atheists and other non-conformists. I couldn't be with someone who believes in such a thing. However, I saw that Mohammed Dahir did have the potential to be redeemed. Unlike many of the other foreign-born Muslim students on campus, he seemed fairly well-adjusted. He drank beer. He liked rap music. He watched porn. He hardly ever went to mosque. And he had friends from diverse ethnic and religious backgrounds. He wasn't one of those Islamic separatist type of students who called Christians and Jews by the derogatory term 'Infidel' during debates about religion in modern society. What convinced me that Mohammed Dahir might be worth saving was actually two things. He loved dogs, for one thing. Muslims always say that dogs are haram or unclean. They can't stand the sight of man's best friend. I find that really sad. Oh, and Islam seems full of a thousand rules for women and no rules for men. How is that not sexism? Such an ugly double standard. Well, Mohammed Dahir was not like the others. He loved dogs, and he did a project before our sociology class which astonished people, especially coming from a Muslim male. He supported the mosque at Morgantown for allowing Muslim men and Muslim women to pray in the same space, rather than to segregate them by gender. I found that really surprising. A lot of the Muslim students at Hartford University disagreed with Mohammed Dahir but I supported him. We grew closer together after this event. When Mohammed Dahir asked me out shortly after, I agreed. He was super sweet and charming. And I fell for him. Before long, we were getting hot and heavy with each other. Sex was okay. We were both really passionate people. Until things got serious. Mohammed told me he wanted me to marry him, and that I would have to convert to Islam. I told him hell no to the power of ten. I'm not a submissive woman. I don't believe that men speak for God. I believe women are equal to men. Islam wouldn't work for me. Mohammed was distressed about this. Sensing his weakness, I began to push him away. We clashed over issues such as the Ground Zero Mosque, which I staunchly opposed. Mohammed grew increasingly distressed, and began withdrawing from school and activities he once loved. A suicide attempt landed him at a Christian hospital. It was actually a vacationing priest who saved his life. That incident changed Mohammed Dahir's life forever. Now he was wondering about Christianity, the faith of those who saved him. When he came back to me, he was a new man. A Christian man. He had been meeting with Father Lanester, the priest who saved his life. When he walked out of the hospital, Mohammed Dahir was a new Christian man. I happily welcomed Mohammed Dahir with open arms, and accepted his marriage proposal six months later. We got married inside the Saint Joseph Catholic church of downtown Hartford, Connecticut. We had our honeymoon in the beautiful islands of Hawaii. During our honeymoon, I introduced Mohammed to BDSM. And you know what? He absolutely loved it! I happily tied my husband's hands and feet after firmly placing him on his back before lubricating his asshole and inserting a slim green strap-on dildo into his backdoor. Gently, I made love to him. I stroked Mohammed's long, thick Black cock while gently pounding his ass with my strap-on dildo. Mohammed screamed in pleasure as I fucked him. Smiling, I enjoyed myself while fucking him in the ass. The sight of him on his back, legs in the air and drooling while getting butt-fucked totally turned me on. My pussy gets all wet just from thinking about it. I fucked him until he begged for mercy. It was fun. And that's how I won the love of my life, ladies and gentlemen. I transformed Mohammed Dahir from a sexist Somali guy who subscribed to patriarchal Islam into a good, decent Christian man who embraces gender equality and Western values. I couldn't be prouder of the wonderful man he has become. We are now a very modern household. Two educated, proud African-Americans who love BDSM, kinky sex and uphold Christian family values. Are we unique or what? I'd like to think that with love, and a bit of manipulation, anything is possible in this wonderfully twisted world we all share. Don't you agree? Black on Black Pegging : Surprise! Guys, don't you just hate it when your woman walks in on you while you're watching porn? It's happened to all of us at least once. And recently it happened to me. Actually, that embarrassing episode turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to my girlfriend and me. No, seriously. I mean that. My name is Thierry Jean-Guillaume. My friends call me T.J. for short. I'm a big and tall young Black man of Haitian descent living in the City of Gatineau, Province of Quebec. I attend Carleton University in the nearby City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. And this is an absolutely true story, ladies and gentlemen. So picture this, if you will. I'm in my apartment in the City of Gatineau. About a mile from the shoddy-looking bridge between the Provinces of Quebec and Ontario by interconnecting them through the towns of Gatineau and Ottawa. I'm sitting at the computer terminal in my room, watching a wicked hot Black porno. On the screen, this tall and very dark-skinned Black chick is fucking this light-skinned Black dude with a strap-on dildo. Before you start laughing, I want to assure you that I know what this looks like. I am one hundred percent straight, bro. I love pussy. Especially Black pussy. I'm not into guys whatsoever. I swear to God. It's just that I've developed a fascination with female domination websites, especially the ones featuring Black women using strap-on dildos on men. It's sick, I know. Give me a break, okay? Anyway, I was really getting into the video. My right hand gripped my eight-inch, uncircumcised dick and pumped it furiously. On screen, the Black chick berated the light-skinned dude as she pumped the strap-on dildo into his ass. And the fool took it like a champ. Hardly a scream from him as she whipped his back with a belt and sodomized him with her strap-on dildo. Now that's what I call a strong bastard. I don't know if I could do that. Seriously. I was so engrossed in the movie that I didn't hear my girlfriend Nelta Dorothy Leconte enter my apartment. A week ago I gave her a key, since we've gotten so close. Nelta is the first Haitian woman I've dated in ages. Ever since I graduated High School four years ago I've been mostly dating White chicks. However, after my Irish ex-girlfriend Eileen smacked me and called me the N word during a heated argument, I've sworn off White women. They're more trouble than they're worth, trust me my brothers. Anyhow, I was pumping my dick and that's when my girlfriend walked in on me. She just jumped through my bedroom and yelled the word Surprise. Well, I was surprised alright. Surprised with my pants around my ankles, with my right hand on my dick and my left hand on the electronic mouse attached to the computer, clicking away at the volume. I've heard of the expression caught red-handed. I think it applies here, don't you? Nelta stared at me, stunned. Oh, man. I forgot to tell you. The video playing on my computer's Windows Media Player filled the entire computer screen. And as I clicked nervously, I couldn't turn it off because my computer had frozen. On a still shot of the Black woman thrusting the strap-on dildo deep inside the light-skinned Black guy's butt. Perfect. I looked at Nelta sheepishly. I heard myself tell her that this wasn't what it looked like. I don't think she bought that excuse, do you? Still, I had to try. Nelta stood there, hands on her hips. I looked at my statuesque Haitian girlfriend. At five-foot-six and one hundred and ten pounds, she wasn't exactly a giantess. Yet Nelta has this quality about her that most Black women possess. At will she can become a whirlwind of raw emotion that simply terrifies any man who happens to be nearby. That's when she ceases to be simply Nelta and becomes The Angry Black Goddess. Something that both thrills and terrifies me. Right now, I'm terrified. I pulled my pants back on. Stubbornly, my dick remained hard. It sometimes hardens when I'm scared, like now. Nelta glared at me and shook her head. She smiled wickedly and told me she knew there was something wrong with me. I shrugged sheepishly and told her that someone uploaded the video on my system and that I was just trying to delete it. Nelta did the neck roll thing that angry Black women do, and I realized that she wasn't buying it. Still, I had to try. Like Bill Clinton, I kept up my denial even when caught. Except Bill Clinton's wife is mild mannered and White. I don't have that luxury. My girlfriend Nelta is Black. Black chicks are angrier...hotter...and scarier. Resigned to my fate, I stood up and told Nelta that I was just curious. Nelta shook her head. She said she knew guys watched porn but had no idea I was that freaky. I smiled sheepishly. I suddenly noticed what I should have realized instantly. Nelta was wearing a sexy Black and red leather miniskirt with a Black tank top. Definitely not the standard everyday gear of this Conservative Haitian preacher's daughter who's at the top of the Telfer MBA program at the University of Ottawa. Clearly she was dressed to impress. I asked her why she was dressed like that. Nelta rolled her eyes and reminded me that today was my birthday. The fifth day of February. Nelta smiled and told me she bought her kinky outfit to surprise me but I'm the one who ended up surprising her. I laughed. Sometimes I forget my own birthday. My parents, schoolteacher Andre Jean-Guillaume and registered nurse Antoinette Samson Jean-Guillaume, are both in the City of Montreal. I planned on going to see them during the next weekend for my birthday celebration. Carleton University was in full session and I couldn't simply take a day off from school for my birthday. Nelta looked at the image onscreen and smiled. I knew what that smile meant. Time for me to fess up. Yes, I got a thing for dominant women with strap-on dildos, especially Black women. I toyed with the idea of seeking a professional dominatrix once but I love my Nelta and I would never cheat on her. Nelta gestured for me to sit down on the bed, and she sat next to me. Looking me in the eyes she asked me how long I had been into this sort of thing. At this point, I couldn't lie. Nelta is a great judge of character and as you can tell, I'm the world's worst liar. I confessed that I had been watching female domination videos online ever since I discovered online porn, a long, long time ago. I can't help it. I get hard while watching women banging men with strap-on dildos. I've never told this to anyone. And I've never explored this fetish of mine. Women are so judgmental. Tell them you're into strap-on dildos and they assume you're gay or bisexual. So I kept my secret desire to myself. Nelta stared at me, and shook her head. I expected her to start laughing at me. I mean it's not every day that a big and tall, manly-looking Black guy who plays football tells his conservative Black girlfriend that he secretly dreams of getting butt-fucked by a woman. Instead, she kissed me. And I kissed her back. Later, she told me that my fetish didn't bother her one bit. And she wouldn't mind exploring it with me. Oh, man. I was so happy. Especially when she pulled a seven-inch pink dildo out of her purse and smiled wickedly at me. I got undressed so fast I think I set a world record. My beautiful Black girlfriend bent me over and stroked my hairy balls and beefy cock while fondling my ass. Then she spread my ass cheeks and applied lotion all over my asshole. And just like that, she pressed the dildo against my asshole and pushed it inside. How to describe that first experience? I don't know. It was pure heavenly bliss. My beautiful Nelta spanked my butt while thrusting her dildo deep into my asshole. I stroked my dick and moaned in pleasure as she fucked me. Gosh, I should have told her this a long time ago. Nelta was gentle at first then she fucked me harder and faster. I don't think I've ever screamed louder in my life. Nelta fucked me good, slamming the dildo deep inside of me. We went at it until I couldn't take it anymore, and came. Afterwards, Nelta simply held me in her arms and kissed me. I felt weird, man. Physically, I was happy. Thrilled. Mentally, I was...off. Did I just let my Black girlfriend slam a dildo up my ass? What kind of Black man does that make me? We're supposed to be all macho and stuff, never show vulnerability. And yet, I liked what Nelta did to me. I liked it when she had power over me. I liked it when she dominated me by fucking me in the ass. As if reading my mind, Nelta kissed me and told me there was nothing wrong with me. She said that lots of men out there relished having a dominant woman take over in the bedroom, and Black men were no exceptions. She assured me that I was far from the only Black man who secretly dreamed of getting dominated by a bossy Black woman, in or out of the bedroom. I looked at this beautiful Black woman who shared my life. God I loved her so much. I embraced her tightly. Nelta smiled and told me I didn't need to look for a dominatrix online. I smiled and kissed my Nelta. She was absolutely right. I don't need a dominatrix. I've got a bossy Black woman at home! Black on Black Pegging: Therapy! I've got anger issues when it comes to Black women, I told Dr. Nadia Osman as we sat in her office in the City of Toronto, Ontario. The comfortable surroundings did nothing to alleviate my mood. Last week I got into a heap of trouble. My Jamaican ex-girlfriend Monica Thompson took out a restraining order against me, all because I threatened to smack her ass a few times. I didn't like seeing her flirt with guys, especially White guys, right in front of me when we were out together. I swear to you that I never put my hands on the bitch. I just told her that shit to scare her straight, you know? I didn't actually plan on doing it but the bitch got on my last damn nerve. I went by her place to apologize, and next thing I know the cops showed up. Ain't that a blip? Women are freaking insane and they wield way too much power in this society. Seriously. The judge, the honorable Evelyn Rancher, a plump White bitch, gave me two options, court-ordered anger management sessions or two months in prison. Guess which one I took? I'm a year away from graduating from Ryerson University with my civil engineering degree. I'm not throwing my life away over some dumb Jamaican bitch. So I decided to give this therapy shit a try. My name is Malik Hussein and I'm a twenty-two-year-old Somali-Canadian man living in Toronto. Welcome to my life. When I first met Dr. Nadia Osman, I wasn't sure what to think. I mean, when they told me my court-appointed shrink was a Black Muslim woman, I wasn't sure what to expect. A thirty-two-year-old gorgeous Black woman in a stylish business suit wasn't my first thought, that's for sure. I wasn't sure about this therapy business but the good doctor put me at ease. I'm only here to help you, she said. I've never been the type to open up to females, because a man who blabs all his private shit to a female is the weakest link in my book. Women can't be trusted, man. You show your vulnerable side and they'll exploit it. You've got to stay strong and keep it moving, my mama taught me that. Oh, shit. See what I told you about my not liking this therapy business? I shot the good doctor a look. Continue please, Dr. Nadia Osman said, nodding gently. Got me talking about my mama again. I guess when it rains it frigging pours, eh? I was born in the City of Brampton, Ontario, to a Somali immigrant family. My parents, Ali and Khadija Hussein moved to Ontario, Canada, from the City of Mogadishu, Somalia, shortly before I was born. I have an older brother named Ahmed and a younger sister, Dalia. My sister lives in the City of Ottawa, Ontario, with her Yemeni husband Jabir Fatimid. I wasn't thrilled that my sister married an Arab dude but Jabir is alright. A lot of Arabs are racists toward us Black folks, though Arab men's lust for Black women is well-known. Anyhow, I grew up in a typical Somali family. Dad was a security guard and mom worked as a nurse. My older brother Ahmed joined the Canadian military. He's a corporal now, working at a base in Kandahar, somewhere in Afghanistan. My family had its ups and downs, like any other family, until my parents got divorced. My mother left us, left the religion of Islam and married some Italian dude named Gino whom she met at work. They ran off together and haven't been seen since. That was ten years ago. My siblings and I were raised by my paternal aunt Samira and my father. Got much love for my pops, a good Black man who did everything he could for his family. My so-called mother? Not so much. As far as I'm concerned, she's dead to me. A Black woman who abandons her family to shack up with a White man. That's a damn shame. Now, if it were the other way around, my father would have been blamed till kingdom come. I can just imagine sisters far and wide shaking their heads and rolling their necks at the very notion of it. I mean, Black men are thought to be the ultimate abandoners and betrayers, always leaving Black women to chase women of other races, never taking care of their responsibilities and families. Thus go the popular stereotypes and misconceptions, and honestly, that makes me mad. Plenty of Black women abandon their families and we never hear about it. If that's not gender bias then I don't know what is! I was still fuming, years later, as I painfully recollected and regurgitated this not-so-fun family facts to the good Dr. Nadia Osman in her downtown office. I am sorry for this, she said, a surprising empathy in her voice. Man, I wasn't feeling that at all. Don't need your pity lady, I said, shrugging. You've been through a lot, Dr. Nadia continued, looking right at me. I stared at her, wondering what her game was. One day you will learn to open your heart to love again, the doctor said confidently. I laughed at that. Not looking for love doc, I said, then I got up and walked out of the office without so much a goodbye. My time was up anyway. I went back to campus to work on some assignments. My way of getting all the emotional shit out of my head. The next day, I sat in the Ryerson University campus library, working at a computer. I was in my favorite corner, with basically nobody around me. Cool, just the way I like it. With nobody around me I could do whatever the fuck I wanted. I completed my assignments and then relaxed a bit. I checked my Facebook and Twitter, took a few Selfie shots and posted them, and then went to YouTube to listen to music. I'm a big fan of Linkin Park. After listening to music for about an hour I was bored as hell, so I ended up doing what most guys ( and a few women ) do on the web. I looked at some porn. I first went to Mad Black Sex, one of my favorite sites, and later I checked out Real Black Anal. I love watching videos featuring Black women with big butts getting fucked in the ass by well-endowed brothers. My favorite porn stars are Janet Jacme, Cherokee D'Ass, Ayana Angel, Beauty Dior, Devin Weed, Mr. Marcus, Brian Pumper and Vida Valentine. No lie, those videos got me real hard, especially a scene featuring the chocolate MILF known as Cherokee D'Ass getting butt-fucked by Brian Pumper in a steamy naughty teacher/eager student scenario. Yeah, but I was still in the mood for something else. So I went to Google and typed the words "Black woman strap-on Black man". Surprisingly, lots of hits came up. I checked out a steamy video on XHamster which simply got me hot. The video was beyond hot, man. A curvy Black chick wearing a strap-on dildo spanked a big and tall Black dude, then bent him over and fucked him with her toy. Now, I'm not a fag. Not bisexual either. Yet scenes like these get me hot. Don't ask, man. Don't ask. Yeah, I was growing hard by the second as I watched the unconventionally hot video, and kind of forgot where I was. That's when, um, someone came and sat next to me. It was none other than Dr. Nadia Osman! Had lightning struck me right then and there, I wouldn't have been more shocked. Hello Malik, the good doctor said, good-natured and cheerful as ever. I tried to click out of what was on my screen but it not only went full-screen but it froze. Yeah, I've got a blown-up pic of a Black dude getting strap-on fucked by a Black woman on my computer, and it's full-frigging screen. Oh, and my shrink is sitting next to me as it happens. How was YOUR damn day? Dr. Nadia Osman looked at the screen then at me. What are you doing here? I asked, out of frustration. I was visiting my cousin Amal and saw you so I thought I'd say hello but now I think I'd better go, she said with a smile. The doc got up to leave, and pardon my saying so but she looked damn good in a Black leather jacket, White tank top and blue jeans. Gone was the stylish but conservative office attire. I'm sorry for being rude please don't leave, I heard myself say. The doc looked at me, smiling weirdly. You sure? she grinned. Um yeah, I said, not knowing what I was getting myself into. It's often been said that there's different sides to everyone, and you can never know anyone completely. I guess that's true. How else would you explain how my usually uptight doctor and I spent an afternoon looking at BDSM porn together, watching videos of women dominating men and penetrating them with strap-on dildos. I find this stuff positively arousing, Dr. Nadia Osman said, grinning. Man, I couldn't believe how different this laid-back, easygoing and kinky lady was from the one I knew at the office. You're something else, I told her, honestly amazed. Many different sides to every woman, Nadia said confidently. A kinky Black woman who's Muslim and has a Ph. D. in Psychiatry I am impressed, I said, meaning every word. After watching videos together, I felt mad comfortable with Dr. Nadia Osman, comfy enough to call her Nadia but she told me not to cross that line. Immediately I got mad. See what I told you about females and their weird behavior? I thought we were cool! I got up, fuming. Sit your ass down, Dr. Nadia Osman said. I looked at her, still pissed. We aren't at your office doc, I said loudly. The students at various computer terminals in the library looked in our direction. You and I can be cool but you need to respect my boundaries, Dr. Nadia Osman said. Alright, I said, not really understanding. Gently the good doctor touched my thigh. Come see me tomorrow and all will be clear, she said. With that, she got up and left. I watched her walk away, staring at that big butt of hers as it sashayed from side to side like a pendulum of temptation. Hot damn, I thought. The next day, I showed up at the doctor's office not knowing what to expect. The fun-loving, porn-watching lady from the library, or the uptight office gal? Damn, is it me or does every female got multiple personalities these days? Anyhow, I went there, feeling more than a tad bit nervous. I stood in front of the office, and knocked. Nobody answered, so I pushed it open. Nobody inside. Hello doc? I called out. Nada. No response. Where the heck was Dr. Nadia Osman? Suddenly, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned around, and what I saw shocked the hell out of me. Standing right in front of me was Dr. Nadia Osman....clad in a Black leather bustier, Black leather miniskirt and thigh-high Black leather boots. In her right hand she held a riding crop, and her left hand stroked a shiny Black strap-on dildo. Hello Malik, Dr. Nadia Osman said, a wicked smile on her pretty face. What's going on? I said, my eyes riveted on her strap-on dildo. I am going to give you what you always wanted, the good doctor said calmly, crossing her arms before her spectacular chest. Come again? I blurted, beyond shock at this point. You need a strong female figure in your life Malik and I want you to know it's okay, she said. I looked at her, and shuddered. In spite of myself, I was turned on by the whole situation. Your mother left you and you've been looking for a strong but loving female figure and you're angry because you haven't found it, Dr. Nadia Osman said calmly. No, I said weakly, but my body betrayed me. In spite of myself I was hard. The sight of a bossy Black woman with a strap-on dildo turned me on. There, I said it. I admitted my secret lust to Dr. Nadia Osman. It's okay, she said, and gently hugged me. Deep down I've always known I like strong women in and out of the bedroom but I just couldn't admit it, I said, tears threatening to spill from my eyes. Dr. Nadia Osman hugged me tightly, her arms locking protectively around me. I'm here for you Malik, she cooed softly. Gently she kissed me, first on the cheek, then on the lips. Let me be your strong Black woman my sweet Malik, Dr. Nadia Osman said. I looked at her, and hesitated. I was turned on, and scared, and excited all at once. Would she be like the others, abandon me and push me away? Or would she stick by my side? Only one way to find out. I'm ready, I said. And that's how I found myself lying on Dr. Nadia Osman's sturdy oak desk, on my back with my legs in the air. Are you ready for me? The good doctor asked. Yes, I said. Smiling, Dr. Nadia applied lubricant all over my anus, then pressed the strap-on dildo against my butt. With a swift thrust she pushed it inside. I groaned as she penetrated me. Are you okay my sweet Malik? Dr. Nadia asked, concern on her beautiful face. Yes ma'am, I said. Gently Dr. Nadia touched my face. Call me mistress, she said, then pushed the dildo deeper inside of me. I felt her plastic cock invade my ass, and amazingly, it felt good. I reached for my dick, and stroked myself as Dr. Nadia Osman continued to fuck me. You need a good pegging my naughty boy, she grinned. So give it to me mistress, I pleaded. Your wish is granted, Dr. Nadia Osman smiled as she continued pounding me. For the better part of an hour, Dr. Nadia Osman fucked me silly, ramming her dildo up my ass. It hurt, and felt good, sometimes both at the same time. And you know what? I absolutely loved every moment of it! There, I feel man enough to say it. I am a Black Muslim man who enjoys getting strap-on fucked by a strong and beautiful Black Muslim sister. And if loving that sort of thing is wrong then this brother doesn't want to be right. After the session, the good doctor allowed me to take a shower before sending me on my merry way. You're making great progress Malik, Dr. Nadia smiled as she walked me to the door. Thank you ma'am, I said cheerfully, feeling like a million bucks. Call me mistress, she laughed as she gave my ass a firm slap. See you next session Mistress Nadia, I quipped with a grin as I walked out the door. Man, I feel good. All the anger I felt toward women has melted away. It's amazing what a good strap-on session can do! Wow, it was so damn great, man. I've got to tell other Muslim brothers about this. Strap-on sex just might be the key to world peace! Black on Black Pegging: Threesome My name is Jacques Arthur. I was born and raised in the City of Cap-Haitien in the Republic of Haiti. My family moved to the City of Toronto, Province of Ontario, when I was nineteen. I had some trouble adjusting to Canadian society after spending most of my life in the Republic of Haiti. Canada seemed like a really strange country, man. Fast forward six and a half years and I'm doing just fine. I hold a Master's degree in Business Administration from the University of Toronto and I work for the City of Toronto's Transportation Authority as a Special Tasks Manager. Basically, I deal with all of the Transportation Authority's day to day problems. I'm the guy who gets all the hate mail from the citizens of Toronto, Ontario, when the trains and buses don't work the way they should. It's a 210-grand-a-year ( after taxes) job with more hassles than I can count. Still, it enables me to live a life of luxury even in this crappy economy so I guess I shouldn't complain. When I came to Canada, I was focused on two things. Education and work. I didn't have time for much else. Things like dating didn't factor into my immediate thinking. To say that I was one lonely brother would be the understatement of the century. Fortunately, I met a tall, lovely young Black woman who would become my wife. My darling Theresa Norton. She was born and raised in the City of Boston, Massachusetts. Theresa moved to the City of Toronto, Ontario, three years before we met. She is so lovely, man. A five-foot-eleven, curvy Black woman with a cute face, voluptuous body, and a big, heart-shaped booty. Theresa is a graduate of Northeastern University in the City of Boston, Massachusetts. These days, she works for the Edinburgh/Silex Corporation in downtown Toronto as a Junior Executive. My wife and I do alright for ourselves. We live in a beautiful townhouse in the town of Brampton, not far from metropolitan Toronto. Throughout the early years of my marriage, I struggled with something. You see, I am bisexual. I've never explored it before today but I have always known that I found both guys and girls attractive. Growing up in a strict Catholic household in Haiti, I was taught that gays and lesbians were unclean and that homosexuality went against the rules of the Bible. I suppressed my desires and tried as best as I could to lead a normal life. After marrying Theresa, I felt happy. However, my desires for men were still there. One day, I confessed to my wife the truth which I had kept hidden from myself and others throughout my twenty five years on this planet. I've always felt attracted to Theresa's best friend Nicolas Mack, a handsome gay Black man originally from the island of Jamaica. Nicolas is a corrections officer in the City of Toronto and he's out and proud as a gay Black man. I found the six-foot-two, lean and muscular, dark-skinned Black guy really hot. I don't like effeminate guys so Nicolas manliness attracted me. A lot. Of course, I loved my wife Theresa and I refused to cheat on her. When I told Theresa all this, she simply smiled and hugged me. I didn't expect this reaction, to tell you the truth. In my reflections about telling my wife the truth about myself, I always figured Theresa would smack the hell out of me, call me a faggot and divorce me. Theresa looked at me and kissed me tenderly, wiping away my tears. In spite of myself, the tears flowed. I'm a six-foot-five, 250-pound Black man. I grew up in the macho Haitian culture. Where I come from, men don't cry. Theresa told me that she loved me and accepted me for who I am. Later, she would tell me that she always suspected I wasn't totally straight. This surprised me. I enjoy having sex with my wife. She's a tall, curvy Black woman with a big round butt. And she loves sex as much as I do. I'm serious, she wants it all the time! What more could a Black man ask for? My sex life with Theresa was very satisfying. And yet we both knew something was missing. Theresa told me she knew exactly what we needed to do in order to spice up our love life. Introduce a third person to fulfill my previously undisclosed desires. I was a little hesitant, but with my wife Theresa's blessing I got over my fears. Theresa and I had a talk with Nicolas Mack, and the handsome gay Jamaican man agreed to do a threesome with us. We sat together in our living room, had some red wine and loosened up before the party started. Theresa got things going by undressing. Nicolas and I looked at her admiringly. I took off my shirt and pants, inspired by my wife's boldness. Nicolas did the same. I sat there, stroking my eight-inch, uncircumcised Black cock. Nicolas looked at it hungrily. The sexy gay brother leaned over and took my cock into his mouth. Theresa joined us, and sat next to me. My wife watched as her gay male best friend went down on me, her adoring husband. Theresa was turned on, I could tell. Later, she told me that many women found man to man sex really hot the same way most straight guys and some bisexual guys liked watching lesbian sex. I guess that made sense. I found myself moaning in pleasure as Nicolas sucked my cock like a professional. The guy was seriously good. After Nicolas got me nice and hard, I put on a condom and made him assume the position. He was more than okay with that. Nicolas got on all fours, face down and ass up. I got behind him and stroked my dick. My wife Theresa tossed me a bottle of lubricant and I made good use of it. I smeared the lubricant all over Nicolas ass, then pressed my dick against his asshole. Theresa held Nicolas butt cheeks wide open as I slid my cock into his ass. Nicolas grunted as I penetrated him but otherwise remained silent as I began fucking him. He stroked his big cock as I began fucking him in the ass. Man, this was a dream come true. Fucking a masculine gay Black stud like Nicolas while my wife watched us. I fucked Nicolas with gusto, loving the feel of his ass around my dick. We went at it for a while, then I pulled out of him. Next, I stroked his dick while fucking him in the reverse cowgirl position. I got some nice screams out of him as I sank my dick balls-deep into his ass. Oh, yeah. We were both loving this and fucked like there was no tomorrow. About an hour later, Nicolas Mack left our house, thanking Theresa and I for a wonderful time. As soon as he was out the door, Theresa purred like a kitten and pounced on me. She climbed on top of me after pushing me down on the floor. My sexy wife impaled her hot pussy on my dick and began riding me real hard. I thrust my cock deep into her snatch. Theresa screamed and told me to fuck her harder. At this point, I knew what she liked so I pumped her up. After a few minutes we switched things up. I put her on all fours and spanked her big butt while slamming my dick into her pussy from behind. I was giving her all I got when she suddenly asked me to stop. I froze. Did I do something wrong? Theresa told me that she wanted me to fuck her the same way I fucked Nicolas. I grinned and she smiled naughtily. Okay by me, I thought as Theresa spread her ass cheeks wide open. I took the same bottle of lubricant I used with Nicolas and applied the lube all over Theresa's asshole. Then, I pressed my dick against her asshole and pushed it inside. I began to fuck my wife's asshole gently. This was our first time trying anal sex together. For ages I begged her for it but she always turned me down. She said it just wasn't her thing. Well, look at her now. Theresa went buck-wild as I filled her asshole with my dick. She screamed at me to fuck her harder. Man, the things that come out of my wife's mouth while we fuck would stun a seasoned sailor. I gave it to her real good, filling her asshole with my dick. Man, this was my second time fucking a tight ass today and honestly, I couldn't get enough of it. I think Theresa and I went at it for a good hour, or pretty close. Afterwards, she lay there, panting. I swept her into my arms and kissed her. Grinning, she told me she still wasn't sated. I shook my head. She wanted more? Man, I'm not sure I can handle any more sex today. I might need a sandwich or a Red Bull or something. Theresa smiled and told me that this time, she'd do fucking. I had to ask what she meant by that. Poor me. Yeah, I soon found out what she meant. That's how I found myself on my back with my legs in the air. Theresa knelt between my legs, stroking a surprisingly life-like strap-on dildo. Grinning, she asked me if I was ready to get fucked. I flashed her a courageous smile, and nodded. Laughing, she pressed the well-lubricated dildo against my asshole. And just like that, she began fucking me. I grimaced as Theresa's dildo penetrated my asshole. I've never had anything foreign up my ass before. Not even in my fantasies. Even when I had bisexual feelings about other Black men, it was always me doing them and not the other way around. And now my gorgeous African-American wife was sliding her dildo in and out of my Haitian ass like it was nothing. I closed my eyes and greeted as she began fucking me harder. Theresa suddenly slapped my face and told me to open my eyes. Whoa! That wasn't part of the plan. Theresa smiled wickedly and told me she wanted to look into my eyes while fucking me in the ass with her strap-on dildo. I kept my eyes open, and sometimes I groaned or cried out sharply in pain. None of that seemed to matter to Theresa who fucked me like there was no tomorrow. My usually calm and gentle wife turned into a scary, sexily bossy Black Dominatrix before my amazed eyes. The more I screamed the more turned on she seemed. She kept saying she'd been wanting to fuck my 'cute' ass for ages. And now, she was making up for lost time. Mercilessly she pounded my ass until I literally begged for mercy. I'm not a weak man, folks, but I felt like Theresa's dildo was splitting my ass in two. She pulled out of me and asked me how I felt. I told her to ask me again tomorrow. Theresa smiled and gently slapped my ass. I tried to catch my breath. Yeah, this was definitely one of the most intense experiences of my life. I kissed Theresa on the lips. Something in her golden brown eyes softened, and she went from scary Black Dominatrix to gentle and kindly wife again. Breathlessly she told me that she loved me so much it scared her. I smiled, and told her I loved her too. And I meant it. We're going to have to learn to communicate better as far as the strap-on stuff is concerned but otherwise we're on the right track as a passionate, fun-loving couple. Don't you agree? Black on Black Pegging : Toronto A lot of Black guys have this image thing where they act tough and talk even tougher. For a lot of them, it's their way of dealing with a world that's hostile to them. As a Black woman living in the City of Toronto, Ontario, I can definitely relate. Canada isn't always friendly to minorities, especially those of us who happen to be of African descent. I was born in Jamaica and raised in the Greater Toronto Area, so I know what I'm talking about. Even though I experience my share of frustration with the brothers, I still have much love for them. I attend the University of Toronto, where I study criminal justice. One of these days, I'm going to become a police officer. I've often been told that I've got the physique for it, this coming from conservative Jamaicans who don't think women ought to be able to do certain jobs like construction and police work. I've five-foot-ten, and weigh two hundred and ten pounds. I'm dark-skinned, chubby and big-bottomed, and damn proud of every inch of my body. I know a lot of sisters with body image issues. Not me. While it's not easy being a large Black woman in a world that worships skinny White chicks, I always carry myself with confidence and grace. Black is beautiful, suckers better recognize! I've always been a no-nonsense woman who doesn't suffer fools. It hasn't won me many friends, I'll tell you that much right now. Still, there's something to be said about being an honest woman in a world full of fake people who sugar coat things in front of you and say nasty stuff behind your back. There's a time to speak up and a time to keep your mouth shut, though. My classmate Augustine Leconte should have heeded that warning, seriously. He's a short, light-skinned dude I met during my first year at the University of Toronto. Augustine is around five-foot-eight, slim, with light brown skin, curly Black hair and pale green eyes. His father is Black and his mother is Hispanic. Dude thinks he's all that because he's light-skinned and his parents have money. On top of having a chip on his shoulder, Augustine also thinks he's all that and then some. One time, I was hanging out at the food court on campus and he got into an argument with my girlfriend Shanice and her friend Jerome Lopez. Augustine, the civil engineering student who only dates White women seemed to have a problem with Shanice dating a Puerto Rican guy. I called Augustine out on his bullshit, and I guess since that day, he's had it in for me. Whenever he sees me, he's always running his mouth, calling me a sellout and shit. Once, he crossed the line by calling me a fat bitch and I retaliated by smacking the damn fool on his mouth. Nobody calls me that. I don't care who you are. If you cross the line with me, I will fuck you up. Ever since that day, Augustine has become somewhat more respectful in his dealings with me. He was so brazen before. One day he actually manned up and walked up to me, with the intention of setting things straight. He apologized for his behavior, and I apologized for hitting him. I am not a violent person I swear. Don't call me any racial slurs, don't make fun of my weight and don't disrespect me as a woman and we'll be just fine. Is that too much to ask? I don't think so. Augustine and I made up, so to speak, and we became cool. He even invited me to some of his rap events. Augustine wants to be a rapper. He can't rap worth a damn and his lyrics sound horrible but as his friend I honestly tried to be supportive. If you tell your buddy he sucks, what kind of friend are you? I'm usually brutally honest but I don't take pleasure in crushing people's dreams. That's cruel and that's not how I roll. I will never understand why people are ashamed of their origins. Seriously, why not be proud of who you are and where you're from? I was born in Saint Catherine's Parish, Jamaica. My parents, William and Sheila Brown left the island of Jamaica for Canada in the 1990s. We've lived in the province of Ontario ever since. One day, I sat Augustine down and talked to him about what I perceived to be a big issue with him. Why was he trying so hard to be all tough and manly? Why push himself through the rap game? Why couldn't he simply be himself? I tried not to sound all accusatory while speaking to him. Seriously. It, um, didn't work out that well. Augustine's response to what I said honestly surprised me. He told me that he had always felt confused. To the Blacks, he wasn't Black enough. To the Whites, he was too Black. He never once felt like he belonged, even in a racially diverse place like metropolitan Toronto. I had never seen Augustine like this, honestly. For once he wasn't the cocky wannabe rapper and tough guy. He looked like a vulnerable human being. I went to him and embraced him. How we ended up kissing and stuff like that, I'll never know. Yeah, Augustine and I kissed passionately, and when we came up for air, we just stood there and laughed like clowns. It was our first kiss, but definitely not our last. Augustine and I began dating, and embarked on a passionate relationship. I thought I was freaky but this brother was something else. I remember how he spread my thighs, applied ice cream on my pussy and licked it off me. Hot damn, it was a lot of fun. I love doing down on him, and I can suck a mean dick. Big girls like me really know how to suck dick real good. I loved it when Augustine would nut in my mouth, or cum all over my face. Absolutely loved those cum baths. The best stuff was when he would put me on all fours, spank my big ass and slam his thick dick into my cunt like there was no tomorrow. My man might be short but he had a BIG dick. Dude sure knew how to use it, and he'd make me scream like a woman possessed. I raised Augustine's legs in the air and rubbed my strap-on dildo against his ass. Ready or not, I'm going inside of you my nigga, I thought grimly. The skinny, dark-skinned wannabe rapper I loved so much groaned as I eased my dildo into his ass. Even with the lubricant, his ass was super tight so I had to be careful not to wreck him. At least not yet. I looked at our reflections in the mirror and couldn't help but smile. A tall, chubby Black woman working a dildo into a skinny Black dude's ass. What a sight we made! I've always been a peculiar woman that's for damn sure. My name is Fiona Brown and I approve this message. I locked eyes with Augustine as I began pumping my strap-on dildo into his ass. Grabbing his dick, I pumped my strap-on dildo up his ass. I've always been dominant in and out of my bedroom, and when Augustine told me about his fetish for female domination and pegging, it was right up my alley. I fucked him real good, working the strap-on dildo up his ass and really opening him up. Augustine howled in pleasure as I fucked him and begged me for more. Emboldened by his enthusiasm I really tore into him, fucking him like there was no tomorrow. I finally eased the dildo out of his ass when he begged me for mercy. Augustine and I made love in many ways that night, and fell asleep in each other's arms. I am with my man and I am happy. We're a kinky Black couple in Canada and we're university students and life simply couldn't be better. We're from different worlds and have different lifestyles and friends, but so what? Opposites can and do attract. I have finally found the right man for me and we're happy together. Now all I've got to do is wait until he gives up this rap nonsense. I'm going to Law School next and I would love be the wife of a civil engineer. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it? Black On Black Pegging: True Love I don't know why he thought I wouldn't be able to handle it. I really hope he'll stop hiding stuff from me after this experience. Female on male strap-on domination, Afro-Caribbean style. Seriously. I honestly wish he told me about this really hot fetish of his sooner. My name is Malinda Lexington and I'm a short-haired, green-eyed and kind of chubby young Black woman of Jamaican and British descent living in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. I stand five feet eleven inches tall, light-skinned and voluptuous, with large breasts, wide hips and a big round ass. The Ass of Doom, that's what my man calls it. And I am presently ramming a nine-inch dildo deep inside my sexy Haitian fiancé Damon Chretien. Just another Friday night in our apartment in the Ottawa suburb of Kanata, folks. Twenty four hours ago Damon Chretien confessed to being into female domination. Right in the middle of supper at our favourite Haitian restaurant in Orleans. My man likes female domination. Make that Black female domination. He likes watching Black women whipping, berating and even sodomizing men with strap-on dildos. And he laments the absence of porn videos featuring Black women dominating Black men. My macho fiancé has finally admitted to having a submissive side. And he's fascinated by the idea of a strong Black woman dominating a submissive Black man in the bedroom. It's his ultimate fantasy. This would really surprise our friends and fellow students at the University of Ottawa. On campus, Damon has an established reputation as a lady's man. At six-foot-four and 270 pounds, he's rather imposing. A big and tall, athletically built Black man with a handsome face, solid body and a friendly smile. I guess that's part of why I fell for him. I have a thing for Haitian men. We have quite a few in the City of Montreal in the Province of Quebec where I was born. They're really hot. As a young Black woman living in the boring City of Ottawa, I try to make my own fun since there's not much to do most of the time. We're talking about a City that shuts down at eleven in the evening. Still, I'm glad I live here because it's where I met Damon. He's an injection of excitement into my otherwise dull existence. Look at him right now, lying on his back and stroking his big Black dick as I ram my dildo up his asshole. Damon is screaming in pleasure as I pound my dildo into his ass. I smile as I ease the dildo deeper inside of him. I'm glad I used almost a gallon of lotion as lubricant prior to penetrating my favourite stud. He's making this experience totally worth it. This is Damon's first time getting pegged. His first time getting fucked in the ass by a woman wielding a strap-on dildo. This is my first time pegging a Black man but definitely not my first time doing a guy in this fashion. I don't limit myself in who I date. Why should us Black women limit our dating options while Black men chase women of all colours left and right? My mother Astrid Lavender is Jamaican and married Sean Lexington, a British guy. They had little old me, and stayed married for thirty years until my father passed away. Proof that interracial love is real. At one point I considered myself biracial, which I still am technically, but these days I consider myself simply Black. Especially since I discovered I was more attracted to Black men than White men or men of other races. Much to the dismay of my Jamaican mother, who never met a White man she didn't like. Mum's got a low opinion of Black men. I think sexy, well-hung and open-minded Black men are the nicest thing since sliced bread. Which is why I'm engaged to one now. I grab Damon's member and stroke it while sliding the strap-on dildo in and out of his asshole. I run my fingers along the length of Damon's nine-inch shaft, play with his foreskin gently, and flick my fingers over his balls. He loves it when I do that during oral sex. I am not sucking on him now and he is not fucking me. Tonight, I do the fucking. He is mine now. Completely in my power. Damon's strong hands are bound with thick cords. As are those legs of his which dazzle his teammates and opponents on the Soccer field. He's one of the best male Soccer players in the world of Canadian Inter-University Sport today. I hold those legs of his in the air as I push my dildo deeper into his asshole. How do you like me now, my sexy stud? I ask Damon how it feels to get fucked in the ass by a woman for a change. He groans, and I have to strain to hear him. He tells me it feels nice. I smile and pinch his nipples. They're so fucking hard it's not even funny. Why do men's nipples stand at attention when they're turned on? I don't know. I'm a civil engineering major not a medical student. I understand machines. That's why I picked this special dildo to break Damon's anal cherry. It's fully mechanized, requiring the user to do very little. My dildo is long and slim, made for anal beginners. It's perfect for Damon. I work the dildo into his ass easily. The lubricant helps, as does the fact that my man is quite relaxed. I've fucked all kinds of men with this very same strap-on dildo. White men. Hispanic men. Chinese men. Indian men. Arab men. In order to have a successful pegging experience, the male bottom and the female top must be in synch. Patience, lubrication and more patience are needed. You just can't rush these things. Gently I stroke Damon's beautiful face as I fuck him in the ass with my strap-on dildo. He's such a wonderful submissive. He has complete trust in his mistress. He doesn't top from the bottom, meaning giving out orders while he's really supposed to be the one submitting. Some guys have this annoying habit. Guys like that don't last long with me. When I'm in Dominatrix mode, I'm in it one hundred percent. And I expect my submissive to give me his hundred percent. This is a fantasy come true for me as well. I've always to have a Black male sexual submissive. Unfortunately, I couldn't find one. Most of the Black guys I've been with are so rigid sexually that they'd probably get mad if I ever brought up the subject of pegging with them. Damon is more flexible. He doesn't mind pleasuring me whether it's by sucking my toes, massaging me all over or licking my sweet pussy. That's why I love this young Haitian man so damn much. Damon makes me happy. I swear he makes me want to do things I don't normally do with other guys. Before I met Damon, I never let a guy anywhere near my ass. Damon is the first guy I let fuck me in the ass and it was a mind-opening experience. I now love backdoor sex, even with me on the receiving end. Most of the time I'm a giver, like now. I work Damon over really intensely, filling his ass with my dildo. He screams passionately as I fuck him real good. And then I kiss him as I pull out of him. My sexy stud sighs in relief as well as pleasure as I remove my dildo from his ass. I look into his eyes and ask him how he feels. He smiles and tells me he feels great. We kiss again, and next thing I know I'm riding his hard cock, sliding it into my pussy without bothering the remove the strap-on dildo harness from my hips. I really needed to have my man inside of me! What do you think of my spicy little tale? It's all true too, only the names have been changed. My fiancé and I live in the Capital region of the Confederation of Canada. We're a University-educated Black couple, and we're happy and kinky together. For Black men reading this, I hope you can learn something from all this. Stop hiding your sexual secrets from the Black woman in your life. Kink attracts kink, and odds are she might be into the same stuff you are. You never know. Take a chance, and make the magic happen by bringing her into your world. Let her know what turns you on and what moves you. Not every Black woman out there will be as understanding as I am, true. However, the few who are truly understanding of you Black men and your weird fetishes make your world go around. And you know it! So ask a bossy and kinky sister to strap you already! Black On Black Pegging: Black Love All kinds of guys are walking around in the hood, acting like they're all big and bad. The truth is that in the hood, it's the women who run the show. Doesn't matter where you go, or what colour you are. Take me for example. My name is Jasmine Brown. A young African-American woman living in the City of Toronto, Province of Ontario. I'm originally from the City of Detroit, Michigan. I moved to the Confederation Canada because of the Recession in the United States of America as well as some personal issues. These days, I work as a Security Guard at a mall in downtown Toronto and also study at the University of Toronto part-time. Since I'm a broke-ass international student, the only place where I found affordable rent was the hood, as parts of Brampton are called. Right now, I'm dominating the hell out of this Black Canadian punk named Djamal Hawthorne. He's a big and tall Black guy from the City of Ottawa, Ontario, who started acting like a bad ass the moment he came to the City of Toronto. Black Canadian guys are just as foolish as their African-American counterparts. Djamal is a student at York University who's fascinated by the ghetto lifestyle even though he grew up in an affluent French-Canadian town called Orleans near the City of Ottawa. Djamal is such a wannabe. Supposedly, he was getting into all kinds of shit in Ottawa before turning his life around. He's got those fake ass tattoos that he claims he got in prison though I'm sure I once saw him getting tattooed in a parlour in China town. See what I mean about him being fake? Anyhow, this fool kept trying to get with me. His younger sister Deirdre is a second-year student at the University of Toronto and one of my best friends. I was there for Deirdre when she got dumped by Thomas, this Irish guy she was seeing. Apparently, his conservative parents balked at the idea of him marrying a Black woman even though they were nice to Deirdre when she first met them during a Toronto University campus visit. Deirdre is such a sweet gal. Tall and slender, with light brown skin, curly Black hair and pale green eyes. Like Djamal, she's half Black and half White. They were raised by their Jamaican mother Anne after their Englishman of a father left them. Deirdre keeps dating White men but they keep breaking her heart. Not that Black men are any better. All men are foolish and will mess up a woman's heart and mind if she lets them. Unlike Deirdre, I only date Black men. It's my preference and my choice. Black men have their faults but you never hear about a Black man coming home and shooting his wife and brats after losing his job. White men are prone to doing that. When they lose wealth and power, they tend to self-destruct. No offense to Black women who prefer White men but I got much love for my Black men. Of course, Black men piss me off daily but I guess that's part of the chemistry. I wouldn't have it any other way. Anyhow, I never told Deirdre about my attraction slash hatred slash lust I had for her brother Djamal. Like a lot of mixed-race Black dudes, he's got a complex. The way I figure it, there are two types of mixed-race Black guys. Those who seriously wish they were totally White and the Afro-centric ones. The White wannabes don't associate with Black folks, and they only date White women and do stereotypical shit like listening to country music and watching hockey. The Afro-centric ones take it the opposite extreme. They worship anything Black. They have a real fetish for anything African. That's Djamal. Usually I love Afro-centric brothers. However, I found Djamal annoying. Because he's light-skinned and grey-eyed, a lot of people ask him if he's mixed. He usually denies it, saying he's completely Black. He has a big Afro and sometimes wears dreadlocks. The dude has never heard of a comb, though, and his hair looks messed up. He's got every Ice Cube, Snoop Dog and N.W.A. record. And he dresses like he's going to star in a Rap video. He idolizes U.S. President Barack Obama but only because Obama considers himself Black rather than biracial. He doesn't know Jack about Obama's views or policies but he's got twenty Obama T-shirts. Or more. Djamal only hangs out with Black guys. Actually, make that certain types of Black guys. He won't hang out with Black guys with White girlfriends, telling them they're selling out to "The Man" by dating White women. Now, as a Black woman, I really don't give a shit when I see a brother with a White woman. Just like I don't give a shit when I see a sister with a White man. It's their choice and their preference. Personally, I like my Black men. And I like them dark-skinned, rugged and masculine. Djamal has this thing for really dark-skinned sisters. I've seen him dating women from the Congo, Ivory Coast, South Africa and the Republic of Haiti. The lightest woman I've seen him with was the same skin tone as Serena Williams, the Tennis superstar. Yep, the Afro-centric mixed dude loves his chocolate. A lot of dark-skinned sisters like Afro-centric mixed guys like Djamal, but the dude has a bad mouth. Although he's not bad-looking, the moment he opens his mouth you realize he's short of a few brain cells. If he could blame White people for rain fall he would. Sometimes I shut him up by reminding him that his father is White. That's when he really gets mad. Oh, afterwards he usually goes to the tanning salon to try to get as dark as possible. Djamal is the same skin tone as that football player married to the White lady on the television series The Game. He wants to become as Black as Hollywood macho man Wesley Snipes but he can't. I almost feel sorry for him. I haven't seen someone try so hard to be Black since the artist Eminem, whom I knew in Detroit by the way. Yeah, I guess you could say Djamal and I are on opposite ends of the spectrum. I'm five-foot-eleven, curvy and dark-skinned, with long Black hair which I keep braided. My hips are wide, my legs are thick and my booty is huge. I am a proud Black American woman living in the City of Toronto. Djamal keeps hitting on me in spite of the fact that I told him no a thousand times. One time though, I relented. I was coming out of a special meeting for folks of African descent interested in bondage, domination and submission. The whole whips and chains, handcuffs and strap-on thing isn't just for White people. Guess who I ran into outside the club? Djamal. He looked at me and grinned. I told him that if he told his sister Deirdre that I was into this freaky shit, I'd smack him. He laughed. So I smacked him. Instead of being mad or looking shocked, he smiled and told me he liked a dominant woman. I looked into his eyes and realized what he was. The guy's got submissive written all over him. Well, I am a dominatrix in the making and I could use some bitch to practice my craft on. I guess that's how Djamal became my sex slave. That night I took him home and told him the rules. Thus I became the Divine Mistress Jasmine. Black Dominatrix extraordinaire. When Djamal saw me in a Black leather outfit, he nearly passed out. I smiled and ordered him to kneel before me. The light-skinned Black dude happily knelt and kissed my feet. Later, I undressed him and admired his body. He had a good body on him. I like hairy chests. I was kind of puzzled by all his tattoos. He's got Serena Williams face on his shoulder, and Gabrielle Union's visage on his back, along with Grace Jones on his belly. Hot damn. This dude's really into dark-skinned Black women. I asked him about that. Calmly Djamal told me that the Black goddess was his standard of beauty. He learned to appreciate the beauty and strength of dark-skinned Black women from his mother. I smiled at that. Good man. Yeah, I proceeded to dominate Djamal just like he wanted me to. For our first time together I spanked him and smacked him around a little before collaring him and making him follow my ass around the house like a dog. I ordered him to bark too, and amazingly, he did. I smiled. This dude is really obedient. I sent him home, and went to bed. I fingered my pussy while thinking about Djamal's submissive experience. He was kind of fine when his mouth was shut. And I had to admit he looked really good naked. Plus the brother had a big dick. At least eight inches long and uncircumcised. I've never slept with a mixed-race guy before but damn. I almost felt tempted. Djamal's Jamaican mother blessed him with the sub-Saharan African gene for big penis, that's for damn sure. Our next session was more intense. I bent Djamal over and spanked his ass before whipping out my strap-on dildo. His eyes widened when he saw my Lexington Steele strap-on dildo. Modeled after the dick of my favourite Black porn icon. Djamal didn't hesitate when I ordered him to suck it. In fact he sucked my plastic cock so good that I wondered if he was secretly fruity. Nah, I shouldn't think that way. A lot of straight men like dildos. Anal penetration reception isn't just for gay men or straight women. Straight men like to get fucked in the ass too. They just don't want to admit it to their women. Well, that night I took Djamal's anal virginity. I lubricated his asshole and fingered him before sliding my dildo inside of him. He groaned and screamed as I worked most of the dildo up his ass. I've fucked a lot of Black guys in the ass with my strap-on dildo. They're usually macho-looking Black guys like Djamal here. Isn't that funny? I flipped Djamal on his back in order to look into his eyes while fucking him in the ass. The light-skinned Black stud stroked his cock while I fucked his ass with my strap-on dildo. I berated him and called him names while sodomizing him. Amazingly, he begged me for more even as he screamed. I fucked him until he begged for mercy. And that's how the evening went. Oh, my bad. I almost forgot the part about how I made Djamal lick my pussy before sticking his big cock inside of me. His dick felt so good inside of me that we fucked for hours afterwards. We've become fuck buddies since then. I've grown to love Djamal's dick. I like how it feels in my mouth, pussy and asshole. Yes, I did say asshole. Sometimes I like to get on all fours and get my big ass stuffed full of dick. I love the feel of Djamal's dick in my asshole. And he loves it too. We're two of a kind, aren't we? Djamal and I are seeing each other now. We came clean to his sister Deirdre and she surprised us by telling that she knew. Deirdre is seeing this guy named Eric. He's Black. I think both Djamal and I were shocked by that. Deirdre told us that we were an inspiration to her. She decided to give Black guys a chance after seeing the way Djamal and I fawn over each other. I was kind of shocked. Not by her approval but because she thought I fawned over Djamal. I don't fawn over any man. I'm the Black Dominatrix extraordinaire, people! Okay, I have grown to care about Mr. Afro Centric. I admit it. I'm taking him to Detroit to meet my parents this Christmas. I told him I'd beat his ass if he fucked it up for me. Djamal only grinned. Threatening him with physical punishment only encourages him to misbehave since he craves the pain I dish out. Damn. Black On Black Pegging: Try It! My name is Jasmine O'Connell Amadou. I'm a six-foot-tall, light-skinned young Black woman living in the town of Randolph, Massachusetts. My father Richard Jones is originally from the town of Montego Bay in the island of Jamaica and my mother Crystal O'Connell is a Boston-based Irishwoman. I've lived in the City of Randolph, Massachusetts, my whole life. I graduated from R.H.S. in the summer of 2003, and later earned my Associate's degree in Criminal Justice at Massasoit Community College in the nearby City of Brockton. Later, I earned my Bachelor's degree in Criminology at Bridgewater State College, and my Law degree at Northeastern University. I'm a New England woman through and true. And I feel fortunate to be living in interesting times. The recession still grips the State of Massachusetts at the start of 2012 but I feel confident that Deval Patrick, our first African-American Governor, will lead us back to prosperity. The face of Massachusetts is changing, folks. And not everyone is welcoming it. The media reports on the scores of Chinese and Mexican families coming to the State of Massachusetts. As usual, they've overlooked something. Lately, we've been getting a lot of African immigrants in the environs of the City of Boston. These African immigrants from places like Ghana, Congo, Eritrea, Ethiopia, Senegal, the Republic of South Africa and Somaliland are as different from us regular African-Americans as night is different from day. Still, they're our brothers and sisters so I for one feel friendly toward them. It's time to reconnect, people. Some African-Americans who've been in the United States of America since its foundation turn a cold shoulder to recent immigrants from Continental Africa. I find that really unfortunate. If a White guy from Boston, Massachusetts, went to live in Europe, he'd be welcome among them. Why should a Black guy from Central Africa feel unwelcome among African-Americans in New England? Unity is strength, as my Haitian friends say. Speaking of reconnecting, right now I'm dating this really hot Senegalese brother named Madiop Amadou. He's six feet five inches tall and dark-skinned, with curly Black hair and shiny White teeth. Madiop moved into the Bridle Path Circle neighborhood of Randolph, which is where I live. He's a newcomer to the U.S. but he used to live in the Ontario region of Canada before. Apparently, his parents are diplomats with the Senegalese Embassy. Madiop is a highly educated brother with ambition to spare. He holds a Bachelor's degree in business administration from Carleton University in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. He also has a Master's degree from the Telfer School of Business at the University of Ottawa. One thing I like about many young African men is that they're really motivated to get their college and university degrees, unlike so many of the lazy Black guys we have here in the United States of America. Madiop Amadou fascinated me. He speaks French, English, Spanish, Portuguese, Arabic, Swahili and Japanese. He's lived all over the world. How cool is that? I'm ashamed to say that I only speak English and profane but I've never left the continental U.S. The furthest I've gone was the City of Toronto in Canada, and I was there for only six days. Dating Madiop Amadou was an enlightening experience. He was tall, friendly and courteous. His manners were impeccable. And he was always nice to everyone he met. You'll never hear this brother cursing or see him being unkind to anyone. He likes to talk to any interesting person he meets, something I found kind of odd. Madiop told me that among the Senegalese people, it was unheard of that folks closed themselves off from others. The people of Senegal were really friendly, warm and open. When Madiop introduced me to his mother Aamina Ahmed Amadou, leader of the High Commission of Senegal, I was understandably nervous. It turned out that I was nervous for absolutely nothing. Aamina Ahmed Amadou was a really nice lady. And I could see where Madiop got both his height and skin tone from. His mother was easily six-foot-one, with ebony skin and short Black hair. She was educated at Oxford University in the United Kingdom. As for Madiop's father Yousef Amadou, he was a short, light-skinned, slightly balding Black gentleman. He was once Chief of Police in Dakar, the Capital of Senegal, and once worked for Interpol. He held dual Canadian/Senegalese citizenship and was a graduate of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police Academy. Wow. Madiop came from impressive lineage. My dad is a corrections officer and my mother teaches Law at Suffolk University. We're just average people. Madiop came from a super family! Yet his folks were nice, friendly and surprisingly humble. As you can probably tell, I am smitten with Madiop Amadou. The tall, handsome Senegalese stud swept me off my feet. Before I met him, I had been despairing that I'd ever meet my ebony prince. Lately, a lot of Black guys have been marrying White women. Some frustrated sisters have turned to White men. Me, I'm not into White guys. I love my chocolate brothers, though they irritate the hell out of me sometimes. Also, the American media had some depressing statistics about Black female professionals dating and marriage prospects. According to them, most of us faced the dilemma of either dying alone or dating outside our race because there weren't enough Black guys to go around. I guess those statistics failed to consider Black men from Africa. They only considered African-American guys. Well, I'm not into those knuckle-dragging, booze-drinking and weed-smoking, White chick-obsessed, irresponsible losers. And I'm not into fake-smiling, covertly racist White guys with jungle fever fantasies either. Sorry to disappoint the intra-racial statistics but not all mixed women are into Caucasian guys. I need me a strong Black man. Preferably one with a college education and some ambition. In my sweet Madiop Amadou, I found both. I thank God for His blessings, ladies and gentlemen. Madiop and I had a whirlwind romance, then we got married. Thus I became Jasmine O'Connell Amadou. I applied for him to get his permanent residency in America so he could at least work in his field. He got a job working as a special services manager for the Boston Museum of Science. Basically, they needed a polyglot with business savvy and my Madiop was the right man for the job. Madiop and I settled into our daily routines. I work for the Boston Metropolitan District Attorney's Office or B.M.D.A. As for my Madiop, he loves his new job. It comes with a seventy-eight thousand-dollar annual salary, after taxes. That's really not bad in this lousy economy. I've seen too many men and women from the corporate world, the legal profession and other high-powered jobs lose it all during the recession. My Madiop and I found a nice apartment in Randolph. It's not far from the Silver Line Train which I take to get to Boston every day. I don't drive. Long story. Involves an accident when I was a college freshman. I haven't gotten behind the wheel ever since. I can drive, I just prefer not to. Madiop bought a bright red Lexus, and he loves it. We're both successful, but as a couple we're drifting apart because we're not spending enough time together. Madiop's mother Aamina became a close friend and confidante of mine. She advised me to spice things up and remind Madiop why he married me in the first place. I followed her advice. I had a few wonderful ideas. One day, Madiop came home from work and found me lying naked in bed. I beckoned for him to join me. He was tired as hell after a long day of dealing with international visitors and businessmen at the Boston Museum of Science but the sight of my naked flesh perked him right up. Smiling, he took off his shirt, pants and socks. Then he joined me. Gently, I kissed him and wrapped my arms around him. And just like that, we began to make love. Madiop sucked on my succulent breasts and fingered my pussy. I opened my legs for him, and he entered me with a swift thrust of his eight-inch, hard dick. He fucked me in the missionary position for a while, then I got on top of him. Madiop put his hands on my hips as I began riding him. Hard and fast he thrust his dick deep inside of me. My man's got an awesome rod of power and he sure knows how to use it! He pounded my pussy just right, and I squealed in delight as he fucked me. I hadn't gotten it this good in a while and I wanted to make up for lost time. So you had better believe I rode him for all he was worth. Later, we tried something else together. You see, I bought a strap-on dildo at the adult store near South Station in downtown Boston and I couldn't wait to try it. Lucky for me, my husband was in a highly experimental mood. That's how I got him to literally bend over and take it. Yep, I greased up my man's ass with lubricant and sucked his cock to full hardness. Then I gently slid the dildo inside of him. As you can imagine, Madiop was a bit nervous about the whole thing but I calmed him down. I told him everything would be alright. Then I shoved my strap-on dildo up his ass and fucked him with it. I stroked his big cock while pounding him in the ass with my plastic dick. Madiop tried to hold it in like the strong African man he is. However, I fucked him roughly just to make him scream. And he did scream as I slammed my dildo so far up his ass, I swear it must have tickled his prostate. I kept ramming my strap-on dildo up my man's ass with gusto. At the same time I sucked and stroked his dick energetically. And in the end, he shouted as he came more spectacularly than ever before. I pulled my dildo out of his open asshole. I looked inside his 'backdoor tunnel'. Nice. Really nice. I love my handiwork. Madiop thanked me for a wonderful time. We kissed and went to sleep. Thus, the passion came back into our bedroom . No more late nights for my Madiop at the Boston Museum of Science, folks. He's happy to come home to me. And you know what? We're quite happy together. Who cays Black Love is dead? A bunch of naysayers in the media, self-loathing Black folks who worship outsiders and hate their own, and of course the ill-informed everywhere. Black Love is not dead. It lives on in Massachusetts, where a Black man is Governor. It lives on in the Obama White House. And it most definitely lives on in Randolph, where an African-American sister of Irish and Jamaican descent got herself a handsome, educated African man from Senegal. I looked for love in all the wrong places and despaired about finding it. And in the end, it found me. I thank God for His blessings. See you around the universe, people. Black On Black Pegging: Twerking When life gets boring, you need to go and make your own fun. In case you're wondering who this is, my name is Melanie Oguje and I was born in Kano City, Nigeria, and raised in the City of Ottawa, province of Ontario. I'm five-foot-eight, slim and fit ( but with a nice round butt ), with dark brown skin and short, spiky Black hair. I studied business administration at the University of Ottawa, where I got my MBA from the prestigious Telfer School of Business and in the summer of 2004, I moved to the City of Atlanta, Georgia, to work for a company down there. As a Black Canadian woman, I've felt more at home in metropolitan Atlanta than I ever did in the City of Ottawa. People down South are just more welcoming, I guess. I love living in the City of Atlanta, a thriving North American metropolis where the majority of the population is African-American. I made a lot of friends in Atlanta, and the place has really become home to me. I can't get enough of this thriving metropolis. It's the most beautiful City in the world, at least in my eyes. Sometimes I go back to the south side of Ottawa to visit my parents, Louis and Marian Oguje, but that's about it. Atlanta is my home now. Recently I became a naturalized citizen of the United States of America, the greatest country in the world. I already had my Canadian citizenship so that's cool. Gets kind of complicated come tax time but whatever. I'm doing really good at the real estate agency where I work, and I'm thinking about opening my own agency one of these days. Once I get enough capital, I don't see why not. It's in the City of Atlanta that I met a wonderful man, Samuel Mondesir. A six-foot-tall, athletic and gorgeous brother of Haitian and Irish descent. His mother Deirdre O'Connor is Irish and his father Lucas Mondesir is a Haitian immigrant. This mixed stud with the honey-hued skin and lovely greenish eyes was born and raised in Atlanta, Georgia. His southern accent is so thick ( like something else of his ) that I can't help but smile every time I speak to him. Well, almost. Samuel and I came from different worlds. He's Haitian-American and I'm Nigerian-Canadian-American. He thinks the U.S. is the greatest thing since sliced bread. I love America but I'll always cherish my time in Canada. Like a lot of Americans, Samuel doesn't know anything about Canada except that Canadians like hockey, drink a lot of maple syrup and worship the Queen of England the way Italians worship the Pope. As someone who lived in Canada for twenty out of my thirty years, I find that annoying as fuck. Samuel pissed me off the other day while we were watching a rerun of Due South on TV and he started making fun of constable Benton Fraser's traditional uniform, calling him Santa Claus with a gun. I felt like smacking the shit out of him, to tell you the truth. There are a lot of things about Canada I don't like. People can be two-faced down there, and they're not as welcoming towards immigrants as they'd like you to believe, especially if you're from Africa or the Arab world. Those are the two groups they hate the most in Canada, next to the Aboriginal people. That's part of the reason why I left Canada for America. In the United States of America, there's a lot of racism but if you work hard enough, you can accomplish anything. In Canada, the racists are more polite and less in your face, usually, but they won't let you progress socially and politically if you're a person of color. Look at people like U.S. President Barack Obama, Jesse Jackson, Deval Patrick, Oprah Winfrey and others. If you're educated and ambitious in America, you can not only survive, you can actually thrive. In Canada? Fat chance of that happening. I lived in Ottawa for most of my life and while walking around downtown, I'd see very few Black men and Black women working in the business and government offices. I can count on one hand the number of Black policemen, Black political workers, Black corporate guys and Black doctors I saw in Ottawa. And it saddens me to no end. Here in Atlanta, I've met many Black lawyers, Black doctors, Black policemen and Black politicians. Hell, the Mayor of Atlanta is a Black man. I now know that success and power can wear a Black face, and it's a beautiful thing. All that being said, it still irked me when Samuel made fun of Canada right in front of me. I love this man something fierce, but I couldn't let that go. I had to punish him for his impudence. So I told him to get on his knees because bad boys get punished good and proper by their dominant mistress. Call me Mistress, I said smartly to my kneeling supplicant, smacking him hard across the face for good measure. Samuel Mondesir nodded, wincing in pain and his face reddened from the slap. He is such a good little bitch, kneeling before me with his arms tied behind his back. I like to take strong men and turn them into whimpering little bitches. Nothing shows a man the true might of female dominance like having a strap-on dildo up his ass. I love pegging men. I take particular pleasure in pegging men of African descent. I've been doing it for ten years now and see no reason to stop. Samuel and I have played around with BDSM before, but I've never pegged him before. I've spanked him, flogged him and tied him up but he's always been reluctant to surrender his ass to me, his dominant Black goddess. Well, after insulting my adopted country, beautiful Canada, Samuel's time is definitely up! He's going to get butt fucked by my strap-on dildo! I unleashed hell upon his ass. I put Samuel on his knees and made him suck my strap-on, and he sucked it like a good little bitch should. I made him get that dildo nice and wet since it was going up his ass next, you know? Finally, the moment of truth has come. Time for Samuel to get fucked in his ass. His ass looked wonderfully vulnerable and ready to be fucked. I hesitated, for a brilliant idea just came into my head. I smacked Samuel's ass and told him to get up. He obeyed, standing naked before me with his arms tied behind his back. I smiled and told him to dance for me. What's that totally disgusting dancing craze that's sweeping the world right now? Oh, yeah, it's called Twerking! I smacked Samuel and told him to start Twerking for me. After a brief hesitation, Samuel started shaking his ass for me while I put on some music. I love watching men dance! After Samuel danced for me for ten minutes, I smacked his ass and told him to get on all fours. Time for my little Twerking champ to ride my strap-on! I greased Samuel's ass and then inserted the strap-on dildo in his ass. I grabbed his hips and held him tightly while pumping his ass. Samuel began screaming as I fucked him. I smacked his ass and told him to Twerk for me as I rode him with my dildo. He didn't Twerk too well, I guess he couldn't dance all that well with my dildo up his ass but I made him dance for me anyways. Samuel tried to dance as well as he could with the strap-on dildo up his ass, but he couldn't keep it up. Finally he slumped on the floor, and just lay there. I pounded my dildo mercilessly into his ass until he squealed and begged me for mercy. Only then did I pull my strap-on dildo out of Samuel's ass. The dildo was Black when it went into Samuel's butt but it came out another color. There were little brown specks all over the damn thing. I rolled my eyes and wiped the dildo clean, making a mental note to wash it with alcohol later. Samuel is a dirty guy alright. I lay beside him as he basked in the afterglow of a good pegging, and asked him how he felt. Samuel smiled weakly at me and told me he felt great. I smiled and kissed him, patting his groin gently. His long and thick black cock was rock-hard. I took it into my mouth. Got to get him harder before he can fill my pussy with it, you know? Black on Black Pegging : Ummah When selecting the perfect strap-on dildo, you must take your time. There's really no other way to go about it, really. That's why I went to the adult video store on near the Rideau Mall in downtown Ottawa that Saturday morning, and bought a toy I dub "Mister Shiny". It's shiny and black, modeled after the penis of Lexington Steele, an African-American porn star with a legendary reputation. You should have seen the look on the short-haired female clerk's face when she saw me walk in, with my hijab and long skirt. Apparently, hijab-wearing Somali girls aren't supposed to purchase sex toys. Where is that written in the noble Quran? I guess I'll never know. I paid for my selected item and left the store, a plastic bag in my hand. When I set foot outside the porno shop, an old white dude gawked at me. I knew what he saw. A five-foot-eight, slim but curvy, dark-skinned young woman clad in a hijab and a skirt. Coming out of a porno shop. Definitely not something you see every day. I smiled and happily flipped him the bird before crossing the street. Then I caught the number eighteen OC Transpo bus heading from downtown Ottawa to Vanier. Ten minutes later I got off on Donald Street, and made my way to Coventry road, and approached a certain plain brownstone building. I rang the bell, and about a minute later, I got buzzed in. The person waiting for me is an old friend. I've known Hakim Tahir for a long time. Ever since our days at Saint Eugene High School in Ottawa's south end. As Salam Alaikum, I said by way of greeting. Aku Salam my sister, Hakim greets me joyfully. I hand him my coat and he hangs it on a rack. Did you have trouble finding the place? Hakim asks me with a smile. You know us black folks always show up on black time, I say, grinning. Hakim looks good. Much better than the last time I saw him. He's around five-foot-ten, somewhat round in the belly but not exceedingly so, and roughly handsome with his light brown skin, curly black hair and almond-shaped golden brown eyes. The brouhaha that echoed across the Somali community of Toronto after Hakim publicly came out as bisexual has died off, somewhat. Living in the West has changed many across the Ummah and most of us aren't ready for it, to say the least. Sitting across from Hakim in his living room, I couldn't help but notice the hollow, haunted look on his face. He's holding up but barely, no matter how brave a face he puts on. Have you seen Amina since the divorce? I asked Hakim, carefully gauging his reaction. He sighed deeply, and nodded. I get to see my daughter every other weekend because that's what Johari decided and the Ontario provincial court sided with her, Hakim said bitterly. I gently touched his knee, cursing myself for bringing up such a sore subject. Long story short? Four years ago, Hakim and I were good friends and classmates at the University of Toronto. I was taking up sociology and he was a business student. We became buddies, and he was really awesome. The kind of laid-back, easygoing and friendly guy that's kind of rare in our community. We hung out together, going to the mall and movie theaters together along with some mutual friends. The brother was handsome, smart and going places. Honestly, I had a crush on him. I nurtured visions and fantasies of us getting married, and having a life together. What I couldn't figure out is how come Hakim didn't have a girlfriend. Most of the Somali brothers at the University of Toronto are into white girls and the ones that aren't are either with black women from non-Somali backgrounds or they're busy dreaming about Arab women, the forbidden fruit for many Muslim men. The more I hung out with Hakim, the more I realized how different he was from most guys I knew. He was smart, friendly and respectful. A lot of our brothers love to go out and have fun with ladies from other backgrounds but if they see a hijab-wearing sister sitting at a table with a guy who isn't Muslim, they flip out. If that isn't the ultimate double standard, then I don't know what is! Hakim wasn't like the others. When I met a handsome young Haitian guy named Guillaume Grenier, and found myself attracted to him, many of my fellow Muslims frowned upon the two of us dating. Hakim actually encouraged me to date Hakim because he wanted me to be happy. Life is short so make the most of it, he said to me when I asked whether it was alright for me to go on a date with a brother from another religion. Yeah, Hakim was different. When my relationship with Guillaume ended ( not because of religious or cultural differences but because he graduated from the University of Toronto and moved to Calgary, where he found a job ), Hakim was there for me unconditionally. I think it's around that time that I started falling in love with him. I could confide pretty much anything in him. The guy was always there for me, and the rest of our mutual friends found him smart, friendly and reliable, but I knew next to nothing about him. Well, one day, I got to know the real Hakim and I must say that I got more than I bargained for. One night, we were hanging out at the mall and there was something going on in the food court. This effeminate dude was getting teased by a trio of burly guys, who called him faggot, among other things. I'd seen scenes like this a thousand times, and as annoying and sad as they were, they didn't get to me anymore. Hakim's reaction surprised me. He totally went off on those bozos at the mall, man. He wanted to fight them. I couldn't figure out why he got so riled up but as his friend, I pulled him away. The last thing we needed was to get in trouble with mall security. They always assume you're guilty of something if you're shopping while B.L.A.C.K. Hakim drove me home that night, and we had a long talk along the way. To break the ice, I told him some of the things I'd been doing lately. I told Hakim that while my relationship with Guillaume ended, I did have fond memories of him. I shared with Hakim something I've never shared with anyone else, including my closest girlfriends. I had sex with Guillaume several times while we were dating. This is considered doubly haram, because Guillaume is a Christian and Muslim women aren't supposed to have any dealings with men of other religions. Also, I had sex while unmarried, and if my family knew, I might end up dead. Hakim's reaction to this revelation? He congratulated me on having the guts to live life to the fullest. This was definitely not the reaction I would have expected from a Somali brother, that's for sure. Still, I was happy that my best friend accepted me instead of condemning me. Now, I felt the urge to ask Hakim why he exploded at the mall, and there was no way to pussyfoot around it. So I asked him bluntly. Looking me in the eyes, Hakim told me that he couldn't stand homophobic bigots who picked on 'obvious' gay people because, well, he considered himself bisexual. When those words left his mouth, I was stunned. Understand that as wild as I considered myself in those days, I could still be shocked by certain things. For a Muslim guy from the Somali community to reveal his bisexuality, now that was really shocking to me. Hakim and I had arrived at my apartment building in Ajax, and stopped. He looked at me and shrugged. Cat got your tongue, sister? He asked bluntly. I looked at him, smiled and shook my head. Gently, I touched his hand. I support you, I said simply. Hakim looked into my eyes, soul-searching. After a moment, he nodded and smiled. Thanks, he said. This revelation changed our friendship, that's for sure, but only for the better. Hakim told me a lot about himself. He'd only been with two girls, a couple of white chicks who lived in his old neighborhood. The Somali sisters in Toronto were a bit too conservative for his liking. When he told me that, I grinned. If only he knew that some of us Somali sisters were far wilder than we are given credit for. My ex-boyfriend Guillaume introduced me to BDSM which stands for bondage, discipline and combined with sadism and masochism. I discovered something through our sexual fun and games, mainly that I am a bit sadistic and I like to dominate. When I shared that with Hakim, he told me he wasn't much for kink but hey, all is cool between consenting adults. Anyhow, life went on. Hakim met a young Djibouti gal named Johari at school, and they seemed to really hit it off. Six months after they met, Hakim told me he wanted to marry her. I cautioned him about Johari. She's so different from him. This chick is very strict, religious and traditional. Hakim belongs with a woman who's wilder, more open-minded and experimental. Honestly, I think he bowed to pressure from his parents when he decided to marry Johari, but don't quote me on that. Anyhow, I showed up at Hakim and Johari's wedding because, well, I was expected to be there since he's my best friend and all. I watched my best friend marry a woman whom I honestly couldn't stand, and prayed to Allah that she wouldn't shatter his heart. Four and a half years later, she did exactly that. They'd been having problems in their marriage, and Hakim made the genius decision to tell her about his true self. I told him not to do it, honest. Not every woman can handle having a bisexual man for a husband or boyfriend. Most women can't handle that kind of thing, especially in the Muslim community. Hakim should have heeded my warning but he didn't. I guess that's why we are here. His wife divorced him, and now he only gets to see their daughter on weekends. Thanks to his ex-wife, the entire Somali community of Toronto knows he swings both ways, and he's basically a pariah among our people. So, here we are. Two friends, sitting down and talking. After the mess in Toronto, Hakim had to leave town. He came to Ottawa, where he found a government job. He's surviving, at least. He's come to rely on me more and more these past few months, and our relationship kind of evolved over time. Yeah, one night, about three months ago, we crossed the line that separates friends and lovers. I am not sure what we are now. Friends with benefits? Lovebirds? All of the above? I don't know. Whatever. I have never much cared for labels anyways. Looking into Hakim's eyes, I asked him, now that we had both unburdened ourselves, whether or not he was ready to begin? Hakim smiled and nodded. I sat on the couch, and ordered him to undress. Hakim did as he was told, at last he stood naked before me. His body was a bit rounder than the last time I saw him. At five-foot-ten and two hundred and forty pounds, he still looks good but if you ask me, he needs to lose about ten pounds. He still looked good to me, though. I like the fleshy look on a man. Never much cared for skinny guys or muscle dudes. The two of us got comfortable, with him naked and with me rubbing my feet on the carpet before ordering him to kneel before me and suck my toes. Hakim did more than I asked, he kissed and sucked every last one of my toes. I smiled and rubbed his head, before continuing. I bent Hakim over my knee, and gave his hairy butt cheeks a sound spanking. First I spanked him with my bare hands at first, then used a hairbrush. That got some screams out of the usually stoic Hakim, which made me smile. To intensify things a bit, I whipped him with his own belt. Watching the leather strike the flesh of his back, legs and buttocks, and how he trembled and shuddered, not to mention his gasps of pain, that turned me on like you would not believe. To really fuck him up, I put a doggy collar around his neck and led him around his own house on a leash. I had him go upstairs, on all fours, to go get some lubricant and condoms. Watching his cute little butt scuttle up the stairs on all fours made me laugh. Moments later, Hakim came back, nearly tripping as he made his way down the staircase on all fours, the tube of lubricant and condoms in his mouth. He found me sitting where he left me, only I had strapped my new dildo to my hips and I stroked the long and thick ebony plastic cock. Hakim's eyes widened when he saw it. I smiled and told him to assume the position. Hakim gulped loudly, then did as he was told like a good little slave. I looked at him, face down and ass up. He looked so wonderfully vulnerable. I took the condom, rolled it on the dildo, then applied lube all over my shiny new toy. I told Hakim to spread his ass for me and he did. I applied lubricant all over his asshole, then knelt behind him before pressing the dildo against his ass. When it comes to penetrating someone with a dildo, you must remember the essentials of lubricant and patience. You're going to need plenty of both to get through it. Being a versatile bisexual man who's ridden his share of dicks, Hakim can take a bigger sized dildo than most guys I've pegged but when it comes to fucking him with the Lexington Steele strap-on dildo, I needed lots of lube. Hakim groaned loudly as I eased the dildo into his ass. I added more lubricant and took my sweet time as I worked the dildo up his bum. He bottomed out at about six inches, not bad at all. Gripping his hips, I thrust the dildo up his ass, causing him to buck wildly and scream. He didn't shout the safe word or beg me to stop so I continued pounding his ass. Hakim likes the rough stuff and I'm happy to oblige. Smacking his ass for emphasis, I yelled Yee-haw like a redneck and slammed my dildo into him. The ear-splitting scream which escaped from Hakim sounded like a death rattle, only with a higher pitch. I loved it! I finally pulled the dildo out of Hakim's ass when my favorite sub finally said "uncle", which means "I give up" for those of you with your heads up your asses. I looked at my dildo after pulling it out of Hakim's ass. Damn. It was black when it went into him and now it's kind of, um, brown. That's okay. I'll just wash it. Hakim lay slumped on the floor, moaning softly, his body covered with sweat. I gently knelt beside him and asked him if he was okay. Hakim rolled over on his back and smiled faintly at me, telling me he felt great. I smiled and gently kissed him on the lips. You haven't felt anything yet, I told him as I climbed on top of him. Time to continue our kinky fun, with some more traditional sex this time. I felt Hakim's cock harden underneath me, and I grabbed his hesitant hands, putting them on my hips. I leaned closer to him, until our faces were inches apart. I'm not wearing any panties under this dress, I said with a grin. Hakim laughed, then grabbed my hips tightly as he thrust his cock into my pussy. I always feel horny before, during and after a domination session. After banging a guy with my strap-on dildo, I always feel like riding his hard dick. Some dudes can't get it up after getting their butts filled with dildo because their prostate is overstimulated. Hakim wasn't like those, thank Allah. I felt his hard dick fill my pussy, and cried out with joy as my sexy sub began pounding the hell out of my pussy like there was no tomorrow. Fuck me like you're paying for it, I told Hakim. Grinning, my sexy stud smacked my ass and did as he was told. Ah, the freaky things us Muslims do behind closed doors. You think you know but you really have absolutely NO idea! Black On Black Pegging: Unity Hey, there. My name is Fancy Jeannine Etienne. I'm a young Black woman of Haitian descent living in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. I attend Carleton University, which I constantly prowl while looking for sexy, well-hung men of all races. I am a Criminology student by day and a wanton sexual explorer and dominatrix by night. I recently discovered the world of BDSM and I enjoy dominating other people, especially macho men who are sure of themselves. Anyone looking at me sees a five-foot-eleven, slim and fit young Afro-Caribbean woman with jet-Black skin, long Black hair and slightly angular features. No, I don't have big tits or a huge ass. I'm just me, not some caricature of Black womanhood. I am very proud of my extremely dark skin. I'm as Black as a polished shoe and I love it. My Black skin is beautiful. I am a very confident woman, by the way. I used to wrestle and play football in high school so I'm good at taking on guys in what they consider to be their turf. I don't intimidate easily. In fact, I do the intimidating. Thank you very much. I don't discriminate in who I dominate or sodomize with my strap-on dildo and asserted instruments of sexual torture. Believe me when I say this. I just happen to find guys who are a challenge somewhat more appealing. Adam Walters is this tall, skinny white guy who thinks he's all that just because he's rich and grew up in the City of Melbourne, somewhere in the Commonwealth of Australia. I don't find Australian guys all that special, and I showed him who's boss. As a Black dominatrix and fine-looking ebony goddess, I inspire both lust and terror in the hearts of men across racial lines. And this Australian guy was no different. I bent Adam over and spanked his pale white ass before smacking his balls with a paddle. I also inserted a dildo up his ass while letting hot wax drip all over his chest. I beat him up with my Black leather whip while berating him and sodomizing him with my thick strap-on dildo. I love dominating white guys who think they're all that. Adam is rich, good-looking, and lots of Black chicks and Asian girls at Carleton University think he's all that. Not me. I am superior to all men because I am a woman. Yeah, I tormented Adam Walters until the Australian stud begged for mercy. After sodomizing him with my strap-on dildo for a while, I pulled my dildo out of his now gaping asshole. I also forced him to lick my dildo. It was totally awesome. Adam thanked me for a wonderful time and went back to his docile Jamaican girlfriend Amanda Anglin. He now knows better to tangle with a dominant Black goddess like myself. I'm too much for any man, especially a silly white guy from down under. My next victim is this Chinese guy named Andrew Chang. He's from the region of Shanghai in the Republic of China. Andrew is an engineering student at the University of Ottawa. He's dating a chubby white chick named Angela or something. Like a lot of Chinese guys, he's curious about Black women. I guess that's why he fell into my web of seduction and intrigue. Like a moth to the proverbial flame. Oh, yeah. That's how Andrew Chang found himself in my makeshift dungeon. I'm talking of course about my apartment basement in the Baseline Road area of Ottawa. I live pretty far from the Carleton University campus but it suits me just fine. Anyhow, I really punished the hell out of Andrew Chang. I smacked him around, called him a little bitch and berated him. I also forced him to lick my feet, and I made him clean my toilet seat with his tongue. All the while I inserted a thick dildo up his barely lubricated asshole and told him that if he so much as whimpered, I'd beat him within an inch of his life. And I always keep my word. When you're a dominatrix you have to be consistent with your submissive types. Seriously. If you break your word, it creates confusion in their minds and you lose some of your authority and power. Believe me, you definitely don't want that. I know this because I am one hundred percent dedicated to the fine and wonderful art of being a Black dominatrix in the utterly boring little town of Ottawa, Ontario. I flogged Andrew and tortured his cock and balls with hard whacks of a paddle while sliding my dildo in and out of his asshole. I tormented the Chinese bastard until he begged for mercy. And in the end, he surrendered to the awesome power of my dominance, my Blackness and my femininity. Everything about a tall, beautiful and strong Black woman screams domination in the minds of many. I've had white women approach me, begging for me to dominate them. Guys and gals, I am not bisexual. I am not even curious about pussy. I am one hundred percent dedicated to the Almighty Cock. I like men, and I enjoy tormenting them. Women are utterly boring and dull in my eyes. I don't know why men are so fascinated by most members of my gender. Three percent of all women are interesting, the rest are as boring as watching wet paint dry. I'm a woman so I know these things. Unfortunately, men don't know these things. Makes it fun for us women, I guess. And I do love to have my fun, believe that. I dismissed Andrew Chang and sent him back to his chubby white girlfriend. My next victim was Ahmed Abdullah, a skinny, dark-haired and bronze-skinned young man hailing from the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. He's a business administration at Algonquin College, which is not too far from my apartment. He's from a place where women have no rights at all and he's curious about female domination. I took special delight in humiliating and tormenting him. I put him in a frilly little dress, applied makeup on his face and lipstick on his lips. I made him wear a wig and ordered him to do menial tasks around my apartment. All while wearing high heels. And the poor guy wasn't even into cross-dressing. I just wanted to humiliate him and break him down. I made him clean my toilet...with his tongue. Also, I smacked his balls with a flat shoe while shoving my dildo up his asshole. The Arab dude had a really tight asshole so he really screamed as I sodomized him. I forced him to lick my dildo clean, and he winced as he tasted his ass on it. Oh, yeah. I really laid it into him. However, my true masterpiece is what I did to a certain African-American gentleman named Steven Henry Cromwell. He's a very tall, seriously built and very good-looking, light-skinned young Black man I ran into in my Criminal Law class at Carleton University. Steve transferred to Ottawa's very own Carleton University from Howard University in Washington D.C. He's an international student and honestly, one of our best and brightest. I just had to have some fun with him. The stud was so hot and I was so into him that I actually broke some of my rules. I don't usually suck any submissive man's cock. However, I just had to get a taste of Steve's eight-inch, uncircumcised Black dick. I sucked his cock and balls until he came, and when he did I drank his cum. I sucked every last drop of his cum. Steve sighed in pleasure as I worked him over. I smiled up at him. Not my fault, I simply love my Black men. And Steve is definitely one of our best and brightest. I asked him if he was mixed since he's light-skinned, with curly hair and gray eyes. Steven told me his father Gerald Cromwell is Black and his mother Maria Conchita Vasquez is Hispanic, originally from the Republic of Venezuela. Hmm. I do love mixed studs. They're something else. Afterwards, I put a condom on Steve's big dick and rode him hard. His dick filled my pussy nicely. Sometimes I think I got a bias for the brothers. I've let white men, Asian men and Arab men lick my pussy but I never let them stick their dicks inside of me. And some of them have been well-endowed. Andrew Chang, the Asian dude, actually had a nice big cock, believe it or not. However, it's Black dick that I crave most of all. And as I rode Steven hard and we both screamed in pleasure as he pounded my pussy with his thick cock, I was reminded why. It's not about Black men's legendary sexual prowess, even though most brothers live up to their reputation. I feel some degree of sexual attraction to handsome, well-built and well-endowed men of all races but I LOVE Black men. I can't help it. The bastards are so damn hot...the sad thing is that most of them know it so they're way too sure of themselves. Irritates the hell out of me but what can you do? Attraction is a powerful thing! My thoughts swirled with confusion and lust as I screamed ecstatically. For Steven had inadvertently made me cum. My screams of pleasure mingled with his own as we did our thing. Yeah, Steve was good in bed. However, I am still a dominatrix and he's still my submissive. I made him kneel before me and lick my toes. I watched as he sucked my strap-on dildo hesitantly at first then with gusto. I smiled to myself as he sucked me off. This was my first time dominating a Black man, to tell you the truth. I've dominated tons of men across racial lines, but never one of the brothers. I knew there had to be sexually submissive Black men out there but I had never met one. At least not to my knowledge. And now I had this masculine, absolutely gorgeous Black stud in my basement and he wanted me to unleash hell on him. The mere thought made my pussy twitch. And I dominated the hell out of him. When I finally put Steve on all fours and lubricated his asshole prior to penetration, I couldn't contain my joy. I eagerly slid the strap-on dildo into his ass and began fucking him. Steve grunted and otherwise didn't complain as I began fucking him, gently at first then I got rougher and rougher. As a Black dominatrix, this was my ultimate fantasy come true. Fucking a Black man in the ass with my strap-on dildo. Black on Black domination is awesome! I put Steve on his back because I wanted to look into his eyes while fucking him in the ass with my strap-on dildo. The Black stud was more than okay with any request from his dominant Black goddess. I raised his legs in the air and slid my dildo into his well-lubricated asshole. And I fucked him good. While sodomizing Steve's ass with my strap-on dildo, something happened. I looked into his eyes and...I froze. He was looking at me with pure joy and pure trust in his eyes. Usually, I keep my emotional distance from my slaves but something in me responded to him. In spite of myself. Without realizing it, we had crossed the line between domination and submission, fucking and sexing, into straight-up lovemaking. What the fuck? Damn. How in hell did that happen? Gently, I stroked Steve's beautiful face as I filled his asshole with my strap-on dildo. And when I finally pulled out of him, he took my hand in his and kissed it. Wow. I smiled sheepishly. This was the best fuck ever! After that remarkable sensual experience, I found myself thinking about Steve fairly often. We became dominatrix and submissive / fuck buddies. The chemistry between us was palpable. Also, I found him intelligent and charismatic. One time we were hanging out and he told me that I was the first Black woman he ever had sex with. All his life he'd been with Hispanic women, Asian women and white women. When I asked him why he never dated a sister, he told me he found Black women beautiful but kind of intimidating. I laughed. Us Black women are certainly an intimidating lot. However, we're women like all other women. We need love too! Life went on. Steve and I continued hanging out at school. He continued dating Helen, the tall blonde-haired white chick he was with at Carleton University. I continued dominating my other guys. Steve and I were just friends and fuck buddies, not a couple. One day, things changed between us. He told me his white girlfriend dumped him for a white guy. And he was crushed. In a very uncharacteristic move, I comforted him. No fucking. No domination. I was simply there for him. We fell asleep in my bed, and he woke up in my arms. When he woke up, my beautiful Black man kissed me gently. That was surprising. We've fucked dozens of times. I've fucked him in the ass while he was suspended by his arms and legs from a set of ropes in the ceiling. But we've never kissed. I liked kissing him. He's got sweet lips. And that's how we became a couple. I have always loved my Black men but I thought I would end up with someone from outside my race because most Black guys in North America found a Black gal like me too bossy and too intimidating. Steve wasn't like the others. He saw my vulnerable side, and my strong side. He embraced who I was, instead of relying on stereotypes. I wish us Black folks would stop believing stereotypes about each other. Not all Black men are irresponsible, education-averse thugs who ignore the sisters and chase fat white women. And not all Black women were angry, deeply misanthropic, perpetually promiscuous freaks who hated the brothers and worshiped men of other races. I'm not like that. And Steve is different from the not-so cool brothers out there. Folks, I'm glad we found each other. I'm in love with this man, big-time. I'm actually thinking about moving to the U.S. to be with him after we graduate from Carleton University. He's so sweet, with a big dick and a seriously delicious ass that he loves letting me play with. He tells me that I've got a nice ass even though I'm the kind of sister who's skinny as hell and I got less ass than the average white woman. Steve tells me he loves my ass the way it is. I don't know if he expects to play with it. I've never tried anal sex before but I want to try, just for him. I sure hope he's gentler with me but I usually am with the guys I bang with my strap-on dildo. Steve's dick is huge! The thought of having it in my ass scares and thrills me. Oh, well. Looks like this Black dominatrix is going to get a taste of her own medicine. Life is funny like that! Black On Black Pegging: Vanier I was walking around the east end of Ottawa the other day when I saw that punk-ass fool named Wilfred Augustine. He owes me three hundred bucks and I need my money. We got a tough economy here in the Province of Ontario. See, that's the thing about doing business with these bozos in the hood. They never pay up when the time comes. I was walking down Donald Street near this little pizza parlor when I spotted that unmistakable gait of his. I was standing there at the bus stop, and I took off after him. Yeah, I was wearing a bright red dress and high heels because I was heading to All Nations Full Gospel Church but I chased him anyway. This is Wilma Saint-James and nobody gets between me and my money. NOBODY! As I ran down Donald Street, the motherfucker took off like the Devil himself was after him. He finally turned into a street I seldom ventured into. Lola Street. He went into the last place he should have gone. A certain Haitian restaurant located in the area. I went in after him, and asked the tall, dark-skinned guy with glasses behind the counter where that fool Wilfred went. The guy didn't even try to cover for him. He just pointed me to the side door. I went down the hall, and into the stairway leading to the basement. I found Wilfred cowering inside the men's washroom. I glowered at him. I'm not a small woman, by the way. Standing five feet eleven inches tall, I'm voluptuous, wide-hipped and big-bottomed, with light brown skin and short, curly Black hair. My father is Haitian and my mother is White, of French Canadian descent. I guess that makes me biracial. I stood there, hands on my hips, staring at that pitiful fool Wilfred as he began mumbling excuses at me. The last time this fool got on my nerves, I smacked the hell out of him. I guess he remembered because in between mumbles, he begged me not to hit him. I forgot to mention that Wilfred Augustine is five-foot-five and weighs one hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet. He's a sorry-ass Haitian punk who kind of looks like Miles Davis, only uglier and shorter. Wilfred was already on his knees, begging me to give him more time. I kicked him in the knees because I'm the kind of bitch who will kick a man while he's down. Wilfred whimpered. I laughed wickedly. Hey, for those of you who think that I'm cruel for doing this, I'm a frustrated sister dealing with a no-good sorry excuse of a Black man. I've given Wilfred so many chances, time and again. And he disappointed me time after time. This time, though, it's going to be different. I looked Wilfred straight in the eyes, and told him that I was going to give him another chance. He grinned sheepishly, the hope in his eyes all too evident. I patted Wilfred's head patronizingly and told him that today, he was going to be my BITCH. Wilfred stared at me, dumbfounded. I smiled wickedly as I reached into my handbag. I took out my favorite toy. The strap-on dildo which I never left home without. Wilfred's eyes widened when she saw the shiny black strap-on dildo. I strapped it firmly around my hips, and stroked it. I saw fear in Wilfred's eyes, and drank it in. I love the look of fear in a Black man's eyes. Wilfred began mumbling again, and I silenced him with an imperious look. I told him that since he couldn't give me the cash, he would have to pay with his ass. He began shaking his head, denial washing over him like a wave. I nodded and grimaced. Yes, Wilfred, you're going to be my bitch. Wilfred looked at me imploringly with eyes that looked like they were ready to spill tears. I smiled at him and stroked my strap-on dildo. I told Wilfred to open his fucking mouth and make himself useful. Hesitantly, the short, stocky Haitian guy placed his puckered lips on my strap-on dildo. Wilfred began sucking my strap-on dildo, and I sighed in pleasure. I swear my pussy twitched at the sight of this Black man on his knees before me, obediently sucking on my strap-on dildo just like I told him to. I mostly date White men and the occasional Asian or Hispanic man these days. What? Don't look at me like that. A lot of educated sisters will tell you that there is a shortage of good Black men. I'm in the MBA program at the Sprott School of Business at Carleton University. Most of the brothers on campus are either queer, or chasing White women. What's a frustrated sister to do? I leaned against the bathroom wall inside the basement of my favorite Haitian restaurant in the east end of Ottawa. I watched Wilfred as he sucked on my strap-on dildo, hesitantly at first then with gusto. Wow. Look at him go. He's really sucking that dick. Just like a good bitch should. He's sucking that dildo like he's got some kind of experience with this sort of thing. Hmmm. Who knows what kind of dirty business Wilfred gets into when I don't see him? I would not be surprised if he was into that sort of thing, if you know what I mean. I told Wilfred nonchalantly that I was going to fuck his ass with my strap-on dildo once he got done sucking it. And there was nothing he could do about it. Wilfred's eyes widened. Why is this bitch acting surprised all of a sudden? First you suck and then you get fucked. Every bitch is supposed to know that! I pulled my strap-on dildo out of Wilfred's mouth and ordered him to assume the position. That means face down and hairy Black ass up, Mister! Wilfred hesitated, and began mumbling. I smacked him hard across the face. He rubbed his face, then did as I told him. I looked at Wilfred's hairy ass as he got on all fours. I made him spread his ass cheeks wide open. I took a can of Vaseline from my handbag and coated my strap-on dildo with it. I wasn't about to touch Wilfred's asshole. I don't know where he's been. I pressed the dildo against his asshole, then pushed it inside. Wilfred grunted as I penetrated his asshole with my strap-on dildo. I held the bozo by his hips and thrust into him. I can't believe I'm fucking this punk in the washroom of a Haitian restaurant in the middle of frigging Vanier. I smacked his ass and called him a little bitch as I happily sodomized him. That's what he gets for trying to run away instead of paying me. Wilfred didn't complain too much as I slammed my dildo up his ass. The short, stocky Black dude barely moaned. I guess he's used to this sort of thing. I happily fucked him real good, then pulled my dildo out of his ass. Okay, nasty sight number one. My dildo was Black when it went into Wilfred's asshole. It came out, um, brown. I couldn't believe this crap! I ordered the punk to clean my dildo. You had better believe I made him wash it with soap and water, then wipe it clean with paper towels. And just to test how clean it was, I made him lick it. Yeah, I'm bad. I smacked Wilfred's ass as I walked out, and reminded him that he still owed me money. Next time I won't be so nice. Black on Black Pegging : Wedding Harriet Saint-Bernard here. A young Black woman of Haitian descent living near the City of Toronto, Province of Ontario. These days, life couldn't be better. Sixteen months ago I graduated from Ottawa University with my Master's degree in Finance. And I currently work for the Target Corporation in downtown Toronto. Not bad for a tall and chubby, awkward Black chick from Northern Haiti, eh? I live in a nice apartment in the town of Brampton, within the Toronto Metropolitan Area. I make good money, and drive a nice car. A bright red convertible, believe it or not. All that's missing in this sister's life is the right Black man. And he's got to be Black for it to be alright. Sorry, people. I accept no substitutes. At a time when so many Black men and Black women are shacking up with or outright marrying women and men of other races, I remain a firm believer in Black Love. I love my chocolate brothers and that's not going to change anytime soon. Even though the brothers can and do get on my last nerve sometime. Recently I met a very promising prospect in the person of Ryan Calhoun. A tall, good-looking young Black man from the City of Atlanta, Georgia. Ryan is six-foot-three to my five-foot-eleven, light-skinned with light gray eyes and he's built like a College Football player. A graduate of the University of Georgia, he's a newcomer to Toronto. He works for my company, and I've been tasked with bringing him up to speed on how Canadian business works. Little did I know we would end up doing so much more than that together. I learned quite a bit about Ryan from working together. His father Timothy James Calhoun is Irish and his mother Lamika Johnson Ryan is African-American. They met in the City of Atlanta thirty years ago, fell in love and got married. Ryan is biracial and doesn't consider himself Black. He tells everyone he's mixed. I never liked mixed guys. I always found them way too cocky. As if being light-skinned with light coloured eyes made them all that. And Ryan was definitely your typical mixed guy in that respect. However, he quickly learned that in the Confederation of Canada, the rules are different. Americans think us Canadians are friendly and polite, watching hockey and drinking our Tim Horton's. As if! Life is tough up north. You've got to be tough to survive in the cutthroat, deeply racist world of a Canadian corporation. Even in a racially diverse and liberal place like the City of Toronto. The best City in Canada is progressive in many ways but some things just never change. I watched Ryan butt heads with some of the cocky White guys at the company. They're threatened by minorities in general and are really not used to seeing a smart, successful executive who is Black and male. And that's how they saw Ryan Calhoun, as Black and male, though he considered himself mixed. Why is it that mixed people with Black mothers and White fathers tend to reject their Black side while mixed folks with Black fathers and White mothers embrace their Black side? I don't know. It's a mystery to me. Still, I hated to watch a Black man suffer unnecessarily and tried to give the cocky Ryan some advice. When you're a highly educated Black man living and working in a North American corporation, White men will see you as a threat. I find it kind of funny and sad at the same time. They're the most insecure of men, in spite of the obscene amount of power so many of them get handed to them. Black men by sharp contrast are naturally confident and masculine regardless of their occupations. They see themselves as men first and foremost. A White guy needs his job and income to validate his masculinity. My Black men are different. They hold their heads high. They carry themselves like kings. White men can't match their natural swagger. That's why I love my Black men. A lot of Black men are into women of other races and a lot of Black women are giving up on Black men altogether but I still got my faith in my brothers. Ryan and I became friends, of a sort. There were twelve Blacks, seventeen East Indians and sixteen Chinese employees in the Financial Management Division of the Target Corporation in downtown Toronto. The other seventy or so employees of the Division were Caucasian. Long before I joined Target, I knew the importance of networking. You can't make it out there alone. No matter who you are. I cultivated friendships with other minority businessmen and minority businesswomen around the City of Toronto. I'm a proud member of the Toronto Black Professionals Association. And a member of the National Association of Black MBAs, which I joined while I spent one semester at Northeastern University in the City of Boston, Massachusetts, prior to graduating from the University of Ottawa. Ryan thinks he's Superman or something. I'm sorry but real life doesn't work like that. Even U.S. President Obama wouldn't be where he is if it weren't for the help of a vast network of supporters. You can't shatter the glass ceiling solo. That's what I tried to stress to Ryan. And slowly he began to get it. I'm twenty eight years old. I moved to the Province of Ontario, Canada, from my hometown of Quartier Morin in Northern Haiti when I was twenty two years old. I came to the Confederation of Canada with nothing. Just a gal with a dream. Fast forward six years and I'm a new Canadian citizen and also a rising power in the world of Canadian business. I worked tirelessly. I had to first get a work permit and a social insurance number before I could even work at a damn Tim Horton's restaurant in the City of Ottawa. I had to get a study permit before I could enrol at the University of Ottawa. They charged me international rates the first two years, before my family's sponsorship of me enabled me to become a permanent resident of the Confederation of Canada. From then on they charged me regular rates at the University of Ottawa. Yeah, this Haitian mama hasn't had an easy life in the Confederation of Canada, ladies and gentlemen. The life of a Black immigrant in North America is never easy. Of course, Ryan wouldn't know anything about that. He's the mixed-race son of a White man and a Black woman. He was born, raised and educated in the United States of America. Canadians are perpetually in awe of Americans. In everything except hockey. That's why Ryan got hired by the Target Corporation so damn quickly. I know of so many Black Canadian men and Black Canadian women from Toronto, Montreal, Calgary and Vancouver with MBAs, MFAs and whatnot who can't get jobs with the big Canadian companies. Yet this Black guy from America simply waltzed into an executive position. Yeah, Ryan and I lived in different worlds. This might sound a bit prejudiced but I kind of don't like mixed folks. Especially the ones with Black mothers and White fathers. First of all, they don't usually consider themselves Black. What the fuck? If you're half Black, you're still Black! Just between you and me, I wouldn't have supported Obama's run for the Presidency if he considered himself biracial instead of Black. Luckily, he's different from other mixed people in that he loves his Black heritage and he clearly loves Black women. I'm glad I campaigned for Obama in Boston during my semester at Northeastern University. As a Canadian I couldn't vote for him but I could definitely support him. Mixed folks are a complicated bunch, folks. And I feel that they have an unfair advantage over us regular Black folks in the world out there. And many of them are cocky and arrogant because of it. I placed Ryan in that category until he began to surprise me. Slowly but surely I began to notice certain changes in him. At work he no longer restricted his conversations to White men and White women. In fact, he became extra friendly with other minority employees. Especially Black men and Black women. One day, he surprised me by asking me out to dinner. And I surprised myself by accepting. Ryan and I dined at Chateau Henri, this lovely Haitian restaurant near downtown Toronto. We sat there and ate some delicious Caribbean food while talking about life, and work. I found myself noticing how handsome Ryan was up close. He kind of reminds me of that Black actor from that short-lived U.S. television series Undercovers. As much as I hate to admit it, some of these mixed guys are really hot. I love my regular Black men, though. I'll take African actor Idris Elba over mixed stud Boris Kodjoe any bloody day. Dark skin is hot. Ryan and I talked business, and he seemed to heed my advice. We also delved into personal territory. He asked me whether or not I had a boyfriend. I sighed. The last guy I seriously dated, Ahmed Hussein, was a handsome Somalian guy from Carleton University in the City of Ottawa. I really cared about Ahmed but I guess it was not meant to be. After two years together he left me for a fat White woman named Beatrice O'Connell. Ryan listened to my sad little tale, and I saw some surprising sensitivity in his eyes. I don't like talking about the past. Ahmed did what he did, but I've moved on. I'm not bitter or anything. I can do better than him. I know I can. Ryan gently reached for my hand, and looked into my eyes. He told me that ahmed was a damn fool for leaving a fine Black woman like me for some ugly White bitch. I stared at him, shocked by his words. A moment later he shocked me some more by leaning closer and planting a soft kiss on my lips. To say that I was shocked would be an understatement. When our lips parted, I looked at Ryan, beyond surprise at this point. He smiled almost shyly and told me he'd been wanting to kiss me for ages. I smiled, and told him I wasn't expecting that move from him. Ryan grinned, and told me he found me quite beautiful. I shook my head at that. Wow. Okay, then. And that's how it all began. My whirlwind romance with Ryan Calhoun, the half-Black, half-Irish and all Macho Man from the office, took me by surprise. Over the next few weeks, I learned a lot about him and about myself. Ryan wasn't what I thought he was, not exactly. When I told him I thought he was into White women, he laughed so hard he almost cried. Looking me in the eyes, Ryan told me he'd been into dark-skinned Black women ever since High School. When I added him on Facebook I saw pictures of his exes. All of them were tall, curvy and dark-skinned Black women. No light-skinned women and no White women at all. Imagine that! I was attracted to Ryan and I admitted it to myself. Maybe that's why the mixed stud got on my nerves. We got along wonderfully, folks. Ryan surprised me with his knowledge about Black History and Black culture. He knew about the Heroes of the Haitian War of Independence. He could have written biographies for Jean Jacques Dessalines, Toussaint Louverture and Alexandre Petion. Great Black men who stood up to the European colonial powers in the Caribbean of the 1800s and founded the first independent Black Republic of the New World. My beautiful and embattled homeland, which stands tall come quake or occupation. Ryan told me that his mother was from the Caribbean, and although she came from Jamaica rather than Haiti, she was proud of our history. I looked at Ryan, amazed at he told me all this. Man was I wrong about him! I am not going to lie. I think Ryan is hot, and I think I'm ready to give him the business. One night it happened after we came home from watching the movie Thor. I was glad to see my man Idris Elba cast as a Viking Warrior. Hey, some White folks in the movie theatre audience were upset at the sight of a Black Viking fighting alongside Thor but I reminded some of them that they didn't mind when that White dude from Brokeback Mountain played the title role of in Prince of Persia while ago. Turnabout is fair play the way I see it. Ryan laughed at my feistiness in the theatre. He told me I rocked. I took him home and fucked his brains out. I wasn't sure how a mixed guy would measure up in the sack. My pureblood Black men usually deliver but Ryan the mixed stud didn't disappoint. He rocked my world, and then some. We were making out the whole cab ride to my place in Brampton. Ryan kissed me passionately and fondled my breasts through my red blouse. We went straight to my bedroom. I sat him down while I undressed, showing him what I got. I'm almost six feet tall and kind of chubby, with large breasts, wide hips and a big round butt. And my skin is Black as ebon. Ryan seemed to love what he saw. He licked his lips as I took off my blouse and kicked off my white pants, followed by my panties. I gestured for him to come to me. He practically jumped on the bed. He kissed me passionately and began licking a path from my lips to my chest. Ryan fondled my breasts and licked the areolas. His hand made its way to my pelvic area and he slipped one finger then two inside my aching wet pussy. My pussy greedily swallowed his fingers. I urged him to fuck me with those fingers. Ryan began licking my sweet pussy while working those magic fingers of his in and out of me. He even fingered my asshole while licking my pussy. I don't mind. Shoot, I'm no stranger to anal play. Not something I do every day but I like a good fuck in the ass every now and then. Ryan seemed to have guessed that. He slid two fingers up my ass while flicking his tongue over my clitoris, driving me absolutely nuts. Later, I returned the favour by giving that dick of his a good licking. In the past, I've honestly wondered whether mixed guys were packing. Ryan evidently had some strong Black DNA in him because his thing was frigging huge. At least nine inches, kind of thick and uncircumcised. I found that a nice change after sleeping with a Black Muslim guy for years. I love playing with foreskins. I gently pulled back his 'hood' and began sucking on his dick head while licking his balls. Ryan cried out in pleasure as I worked my brand of Black magic on him. I fingered his ass while sucking him too. And he really, really liked it. I sucked Ryan until he came, and drank his manly seed. He tasted hot and salty. Kind of nice. We continued with our brand of fun. I climbed on top of him after slipping a Magnum condom on his cock. Then I began riding him. Ryan rested his hands on my hips and spanked my big ass while thrusting his cock deep inside of me. He fucked me good, making me squeal his name while we did our thing. Later we topped the night off with some anal action. I don't usually go that far with a guy during a first hook up but there's something about Ryan. He makes me want to do things. Like anal sex. I offered Ryan my ass and he took it without hesitation. He lovingly kissed my big ass and played with it for a bit. The guy actually licked my asshole before applying lotion all over it. Then he spread my ass cheeks wide open and pressed his dick against my backdoor. Ryan asked me if I was ready for him. I said yes, and he gently penetrated me. I willed myself to relax as Ryan began working his dick into my asshole. I'm by no means an anal virgin but Ryan's dick was huge! Lucky for me he was gentle and we had plenty of lubricant. Slowly he worked a good portion of his dick into my asshole. I'm not going to lie. It kind of hurt, even though he was patient and we had plenty of lotion. However, it felt kind of good, you know? He filled my ass nicely with that magic stick of his, and fucked me till I came. I still can't believe it. I thought anal orgasms were a myth or something. I certainly had never had one before. It was beyond intense. Made me positively squeal before I collapsed in Ryan's waiting arms. Man, after that experience Ryan owned my ass. The mixed stud had it going on and this Haitian sister couldn't get enough. And he was so good to me, too. We're talking about weekly flowers, dining in nice restaurants and making out in the elevators at work. On weekends he took me riding on his Harley Davidson motorcycle. The first time, we drove from Toronto to frigging Ottawa in three hours. I was so scared I almost pissed my pants but Ryan told me everything would be fine. And he was right. Yep, I think I'm falling in love with this charming, confusing, half-Black and half-Irish, infuriating and simply wonderful American stud. Who would have thought that would happen to me, Harriet Saint-Bernard, lifelong distruster of mixed people? One weekend, out of the blue, Ryan took me to the City of Atlanta to meet his parents. Toronto to Atlanta is a really short flight. I must say I was nervous to meet my boyfriend's parents but things turned out okay. Even though they're divorced, they're still friendly with each other. Ryan's father Timothy Calhoun looked a lot like him, only much lighter and taller. During our visit I met his new wife Ming, a Chinese lady. I guess my boyfriend's old man really likes minority women! Ryan's mother Lamika lived in the Atlanta suburb of Buckhead with her lawyer boyfriend, an older Black guy named Lester Morrison who reminded me of the 1980s B-movie actor Steve James. Ryan's folks were really nice to me. Especially his mother. I saw where my boyfriend got his good looks from. Both of his folks were highly educated and good-looking. And they spoke in that southern accent I found so charming. Ryan and I returned to Toronto feeling quite content. That night, we made passionate love. I loved my man and wanted to give myself to him completely. Things went a bit different, though. Timothy and I stopped by the local adult video store for some supplies and he really surprised me with an unusual request. Since I'm always happy to please my man, I went along with it. Which is how I ended up fucking my man with a strap-on dildo modeled after the dick of Black American porn superstar Lexington Steele. Hey, Ryan insisted on that one even though I wanted a smaller model. Ryan's request didn't really surprise me. I always suspected that Black guys who acted all macho in public had another side to them. And I was right. I kind of relished the thought of dominating him sexually. Before, he let me tie his hands and lightly spank him before sex but the strap-on thing took kinky sex to a whole new level. Ryan knelt before me and sucked on my strap-on. He sucked it real good, polishing my glistening plastic cock with his tongue. He didn't look like he was new to this either. Should I be alarmed? Nah, my guy is just kinky. After Ryan finished sucking my dildo, I made him turn around and bend over. The way he usually took me when we had anal sex. I took out my belt and gave his sexy high-yellow ass a good beating. Ryan screamed as I gave his butt a good thrashing with my belt. I'm not cruel or anything but I felt powerful while belting my man's ass. His screams actually turned me on. I wasn't expecting that. We continued with this brand of twisted, kinky fun. For the grand finale, I fucked Ryan's ass with my strap-on dildo. I spread his ass cheeks wide open, applied lubricant all over his hole and pressed my dildo against his backdoor. I asked him if he was ready for me. He nodded. I began fucking him gently, easing the dildo into his ass. I don't know who was more pleased when the dildo went in, Ryan or myself. I couldn't believe this shit. I was really fucking my macho boyfriend in the ass with a strap-on dildo! Me! Wow. I held onto Ryan's hips firmly as I fucked him. He groaned as I penetrated his ass. I asked him if he was okay. Breathlessly he urged me to continue. I'll take that as a yes. I began to really pound his ass with the dildo as it became obvious to me that my macho boyfriend was no stranger to butt fucking. To really enjoy the experience I flipped him on his back. I wanted to look into those pretty eyes of his as I fucked him in the ass. I think I went kind of nuts with the feeling of power I had over him for a minute. I heard myself curse and berate this handsome young man I loved so much. I saw my hands pinch his nipples, flick my fingers roughly over his cock and balls. I saw myself grabbing his face and spitting into his handsome visage. I heard him scream and I heard myself howling at him to scream louder. My lips ordered him to admit to me that he was my Black bitch. With a sharp cry Ryan finally admitted that he was Black, and he was also my little bitch. I laughed and pressed a button on my specially designed strap-on. And unleashed a flood of hot artificial cum deep inside Ryan's asshole. My Black stud screamed louder and longer than I ever heard a man scream before. Almost like a dying scream. And you know what? I loved it! Black on Black Pegging : Wedding When all was said and done, Ryan thanked me for a great time and rested his head against my chest. I noticed he had unshed tears in his eyes. I asked him what was wrong. Ryan bit his lip, then spilled. In a halting, vulnerable voice he told me that his ultimate fantasy had come true at last. He'd always dreamed of one day hooking up with a strong, beautiful Black woman who could dominate him completely when he wanted it. He told me that the Black ladies he previously dated hadn't understood his peculiar fetish and more than one had laughed at him for bringing it up. He'd resigned himself to experimenting solo...until he met me. I smiled and kissed him. He must have felt so lonely! I looked my man in the eyes and told him I loved him. I wanted to do my best to make him happy. And if that means strapping on a dildo a few nights a week and pounding his ass till he cries, then that's okay by me. Ryan told me I was the best girlfriend ever, then he kissed me. My man and I are deliriously happy together. I got promoted to Division Head recently, and Ryan got transferred to a Junior Vice President position in the Acquisitions Management Division but we're still together, at work and at home. Oh, shoot. I almost forgot. We've recently moved in together. We like the town of Brampton and we're renting a lovely house in a diverse neighbourhood. Lots of middle-class Black, Asian and Hispanic families. The kind of place where my man and I can feel at home. Ryan considers himself totally Black these days, and has experienced a profound change of consciousness. He is seriously considering growing an Afro! I don't think that's going to go over very well with our conservative bosses at the Target Corporation so I'm trying to talk him out of it. I love my man and he loves me. Last night after some really banging sex, I walked through our house looking for a cigarette. Ryan is trying to get me to quit but I can still sneak one past him. Anyway, I was looking through our still unpacked boxes when I came across a small, shiny Black box. Inside was an even shinier ring. I almost passed out when I saw it. My man is going to propose! I tried it on my finger ( I couldn't help it) before putting it back in its box. It's a perfect fit! I went back to bed with a smile on my face. I threw away my cigarette, for good. Hot damn. I'm going to get hitched! I looked at Ryan's sleeping form and gently kissed his forehead. It's amazing how much I love that man. When he wakes up I'm going to break him in half with some killer sex. I still don't know how in hell I'm going to act surprised when he proposes but I'll find a way. I already know what the answer is going to be. A resounding yes! And that's all, folks. Black On Black Pegging: Work With a strange look on his handsome face, Jacques Marcelin got on all fours, face down and ass up. The six-foot-six, broad-shouldered and heavily muscled, light-skinned Black man stuck his ass in the air, offering himself to his Dominatrix. Mistress Nadege Jean-Pierre caressed Jacques's sexy buttocks. Although she dominated men and women of all races, this was her first time dominating a Black man. Especially one known throughout BDSM circles as a dominant Black Master. Tonight, Jacques Marcelin, known throughout the BDSM world as The Black Bull was experimenting with his submissive side and Mistress Nadege was happy to do the honors. Nadege looked at herself and her latest submissive male's reflection in the full-length mirror on the dungeon wall. What an interesting pair they made. Born in the Caribbean island of Guyana to an Indian mother and Haitian immigrant father, Jacques Marcelin had some truly unique good looks. He was so damn tall and fine, with light brown skin, long curly Black hair and bronze eyes. He moved to the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario, with his family while still in his youth. A graduate of Carleton University's Accounting program, he worked for the Canadian government as a systems specialist. Nadege grinned, and gently smacked Jacques's ass. He had such a cute butt. The first time she laid eyes on him was at a BDSM party. He was having his way with a short, chubby blonde woman named Rachel Rosenberg. Ever the well-endowed Black stud, the Black Bull fucked that White slut in the ass while her nebbish Jewish husband Earl Rosenberg watched. Just another interracial cuckold fantasy. How boring and commonplace. Nadege had herself some fun at the party, bending a heavily muscled, red-haired White guy named Leif Hans from Sweden and stuffing his ass with her strap-on dildo. For some reason, a lot of European guys went for Nadege. Not that she minded, but she found it puzzling sometimes. Born in the town of Quartier Morin in the island of Haiti, Nadege moved to the province of Quebec, Canada, at the age of eighteen. Ten years later she was doing fairly well for herself. She had an MBA from McGill University in the City of Montreal, Quebec, and worked for the Canadian government. She had a pretty cozy job with the Canadian Revenue Agency in downtown Ottawa. The six-foot-one, lean and athletic ( yet still deliciously big-bottomed) Haitian woman liked living in Canada. Her job enabled her to lead the kind of lifestyle she always wanted. By day she was a tax expert, and by night she was a professional dominatrix who did parties. At one of those parties the Black Mistress caught the eye of a so-called Black Master. The Black Bull caught Mistress Nadege's eyes, and not just because they were the only people of African descent at the BDSM/swingers party. He was really tall, and good-looking. As much as Nadege liked the brothers, she wasn't lucky with them. Many of them were intimidated by a tall, beautiful sister with more university degrees than the average White male and an impressive list of accomplishments. Oh, and she had a bright red Mercedes convertible and lived in a pricy, upscale condo. Not bad for a young Black woman who grew up impoverished in the Republic of Haiti. As she fucked the White man from Sweden with her strap-on dildo, Mistress Nadege was aware of the crowd of twenty or so White men and White women watching her. They loved watching Black dominants in action. So keen was Mistress Nadege's sense of awareness that she also sensed a unique pair of eyes glaring at her. Those eyes belonged to Jacques Marcelin, the Black Master. The Black Bull was done fucking the short, plump Jewish woman. He watched the Black Mistress as she happily spanked and sodomized the Swedish male submissive. Was it her imagination or did the Black Bull looked turned on? Mistress Nadege finished topping the submissive White male from Sweden, and grabbed a glass of wine offered to her by a tall, skinny White guy. The sexual activities continued. A chubby White guy with a goatee got mounted by a slim, spiky-haired White woman with tattoos. A fat White woman with red hair knelt before two bald-headed White guys and sucked their cocks. A forty-something White guy shoved his dick inside a younger White man's ass while kissing a portly White woman with thick nerdy glasses. Yeah, this was a swinger's party alright. The Black Bull stood against a wall, getting his cock sucked by a short, bespectacled White woman who looked like a librarian. Mistress Nadege watched this scene with interest. After getting his nut, the Black Master walked up to her. He looked her up and down. Naked with the exception of the strap-on dildo she wore around her waist, Mistress Nadege cut an imposing figure. Standing six-foot-one while barefoot, she looked intimidating to a lot of men. The Black Bull smiled at her and introduced himself. Hesitantly he told her that he found her work 'amazing'. Mistress Nadege cocked an eyebrow. This ought to be interesting, she told herself. A Black man and a Black woman meeting at a BDSM convention. Usually, Black guys and Black women didn't mix in the BDSM world. Ego issues, mostly. Yet, amazingly, during that initial conversation the Black Bull and the Black Mistress exchanged numbers. The next time they saw each other, both had clothes on. Nadege was surprised to run into Jacques Marcelin at a subway restaurant in downtown Ottawa. The guy looked really good in a business suit. Around his neck he wore a lanyard with his picture ID/badge on it. It was red and White, and said Canadian Revenue Agency. Jacques smiled warmly at her and asked her to join him for lunch. Curious in spite of herself, Nadege accepted. And that's how it all began. Their mutual fascination with each other. A pair of tall, good-looking, educated Afro-Caribbean professionals living and working in the Canadian capital. And they were both into BDSM. Although she was raised Adventist, Nadege wasn't particularly religious but she did believe in signs. Her interest in Jacques Marcelin grew. And the fascination was definitely mutual. Before long, Jacques and Nadege were going to the movies together. The thirty-year-old biracial stud from the island of Guyana loved the town of Ottawa, Ontario, having spent the past twenty four years there. He loved his 'adopted hometown'. Twenty-eight-year-old Nadege lived in the town of Montreal, Quebec, during most of her life in Canada so she was kind of biased against the capital. With Jacques as her guide, she hit the clubs and all the cool spots. Jacques took her dancing at Studio Night Club, along with Maverick Night Club and Mansion. In turn, she took him to Montreal-Nord, where she once lived. To her delight and surprise, Jacques felt quite at home in that Haitian dominated sector of Montreal. He spoke Haitian Creole fluently. The brother was smooth, cool and easy on the eyes. Nadege found herself smitten with him. Oh, and once things progressed to the sexual stage, she was not disappointed. Not only was Jacques packing, but he knew his way around the female body. With his nine inches of thick, uncircumcised Afro-Caribbean manhood, he made her squeal in delight. Yeah, things were going just fine between Nadege and her new man. At least until BDSM became the topic of discussion. Jacques asked her if she would ever submit to him and she said she didn't submit to anyone. That seemed to piss him off, though he acted cool. He got really defensive when she asked him if he would ever submit to her. Hmmm. Nadege found his protests a bit too much. One day, while nosing around in his loft, she found a trio of DVDs with truly provocative titles. Black Men Like Strapons Too. Strapon Black Bitches. Strapon Black Ball Buster. Wow. All three videos featured Black women using strap-on dildos on Black men. When Jacques came home, Nadege confronted him with the evidence. Aha! The Black Master was caught! Jacques looked like a cornered animal when Nadege confronted him with the evidence of his duplicity. He had been living a double life. Acting like a Master at BDSM functions while having submissive fantasies in private. Hands on her hips, Nadege looked at him. Grinning, she asked Jacques if he fantasized about having a Black woman fuck him with a dildo when he jerked off. THAT seemed to piss him off. He took a step toward her. Nadege stood her ground. She wasn't intimidated by him or any man. Jacques stood only inches from her. Shrugging his shoulders, he nodded. Then he admitted to having submissive fantasies. Occasionally. With a sad look in his eyes, he asked her if she thought less of him for it. Nadege didn't say anything. Instead she wrapped her arms around her favorite Black man and kissed him passionately. In his ear she whispered that she loved him. Jacques smiled and told her that he felt the same way. Nadege smiled, and grinned at him. Then she took his hand and led him to the bedroom. The Black Queen of BDSM had a surprise for her Black King. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how Jacques ended up on all fours. Gently, Nadege spread her man's ass cheeks wide open. She lubricated his ass with Aloe cream, then got her strap-on dildo ready. Slowly and ever so gently, she pressed the dildo against Jacques ass. The big and tall Black man tensed. Nadege cooed sweet words to him, asking him to trust her and telling him to relax. Jacques did as he was told. Slowly, Nadege pushed the dildo into his ass. Nadege licked her lips as she began to gently make love to her man. This wasn't some random sub who paid her to fuck him with her toys. This was Jacques, the man she loved. The one she referred to ( if only to herself) as her husband-in-training. She took her sweet time as she fucked his ass with her shiny ebony strap-on dildo. After a while, she flipped him on his back and took him like this, stroking his thick cock while pounding his ass with her strap-on dildo. Jacques lay there, moaning in pleasure as Nadege fucked him with her strap-on dildo. He heard himself scream in pleasure. When she asked him if he was okay, he begged her for more. Laughing happily, Nadege fucked him with gusto, thrusting the dildo deep inside of him. This she did until he came, howling in pleasure as his cock spat cum all over the place. Nadege grabbed his dick and stroked it, then leaned over him. Smiling, Jacques puckered his lips and kissed her. Nadege kissed him passionately, and told him how much she loved him. Jacques pulled her into his arms, and just like that, he removed her strap-on dildo from her hips. Grinning, Nadege took Jacques cock and inserted it into her pussy. Jacques gave Nadege's big booty a firm slap and she laughed as she began riding him. They began making love, the regular way, and it was nothing short of beautiful. Black King and Black Queen. Black Love at its best. The kinky way. Black on Black Pegging Works Watching my fiancé Jean-Richard Jeunesse squirm as I stroke my eight-inch strap-on dildo always brings a smile to my face. My name is Charlotte Darcy. A five-foot-four, short-haired, athletically built young Black woman living in the City of Ottawa, Province of Ontario. I attend Carleton University as an international student, for I'm originally from the City of Cap-Haitien in Northern Haiti. I've been living in the Confederation of Canada for about a year and a half now. Soon I will be a Permanent Resident of this great country. Mainly thanks to my dear man here. My Jean-Richard is something else, folks. A submissive Haitian guy who loves to get fucked in the ass by his strap-on wielding Black girlfriend. And he was born and raised in the roughneck and Haitian-dominated section of Montreal-Nord in the Canadian Province of Quebec. Isn't that funny? Jean-Richard is lying on our bed, visibly nervous as I stand before him, completely naked save for the strap-on dildo I'm wearing. I tell him to undress. Obediently he does as I tell him. Soon Jean-Richard is naked. All six feet four inches and three hundred and ten pounds of him. He's a really big Black guy who looks scary to some narrow-minded fools. Jean-Richard is only intimidating until you get to know him. Like most big Black guys I know, he's a gentle soul. I love really big Black guys. I love to completely dominate them, in and out of bed. Suffice to say I can be a really cruel, manipulative bitch when I want to be. I've been dating big Black guys all of my life. And every since one of them has tasted the business end of my strap-on dildos. It's how I break them in. I look Jean-Richard in the eyes and tell him that I'm going to fuck him in the ass. We've experimented with anal sex before. I've fingered Jean-Richard's asshole while sucking on his nine-inch, uncircumcised Black dick. I've even shoved a small vibrator up his ass a couple of times. He seemed to really like it. Well, tonight I'm going to fuck him in the ass. If only his buddies could see him now. Jean-Richard comes off as macho but he's really soft. He's one of the managers at Ontario Emergent Tech, or O.E.T. this software development company with offices in Toronto, Ottawa, Hamilton and Lake Erie. They hired him right after he graduated from Montreal's Concordia University with his Masters degree in Computer Science in 2010. I'm so proud of my man. I love him dearly. That's why I'm going to pound his ass with my strap-on dildo mercilessly until he cries actual tears. It's his wish and my command. Like a lot of outwardly macho Black guys, Jean-Richard has a hidden submissive streak the length of Lake Erie. He plays football with his buddies at Lansdowne Park on Saturdays. He's a member of the Ontario Black Professionals Association or O.B.A. He's always talking about Black masculinity, Black empowerment and such. However, in private, he likes to submit to me. I'm more than okay with that. I love fucking big Black guys like him in the ass. I'm a short and skinny Black chick. Nothing pleases more than dominating someone so much bigger and stronger than me. Before I fuck Jean-Richard's ass with the strap-on dildo, I want to have some fun. Fuck with his mind and sweetly torment him before fucking him in the ass. I order him to kneel before me. He calls me his dominant Black goddess. I must say I kind of like the sound of that. I order Jean-Richard to suck on my strap-on dildo. This is the part of our session he is most uncomfortable with it. It's funny. Jean-Richard doesn't mind taking a dildo up his ass most of the time but insists that sucking on a dildo makes him look 'gay'. I don't know why so many men are reluctant to let go of their sexual hang-ups. I actually dated a bisexual Black man before, and I don't regret it. I actually had fun with my bisexual Black stud. His name is Armand Joseph and we met at the University of Roi Henri Christophe in my hometown of Cap-Haitien. We were both from well-to-do Northern Haitian families and had an urgent interest in studying abroad. During our time together, Armand and I had all kinds of wicked fun. He's really open-minded sexually speaking. Paddles, spanking and strap-on dildos didn't bother him one bit. Our sex lives rocked, and we were both ambitious. I went to study at Carleton University in the Province of Ontario, Canada. Armand ended up at the University of Massachusetts in the City of Boston, Massachusetts. I hear he's married to a White woman these days. I wonder how his new wife would feel if she knew her new hubby swings both ways and loves to get fucked in the ass, by both men and women. Anyhow, where was I? Oh, yeah. I was watching Jean-Richard suck on my strap-on dildo with gusto. I love watching him suck my plastic cock. That's one of my favourite things to do. Watching a Black guy suck my dildo before I fuck him in the ass. I whacked Jean-Richard's face with my dildo. The way I've seen macho Black guys like Jean-Richard's favourite Black male porn star Brian Pumper do to women in porn movies. Slapping a chick's face with their dicks makes certain guys feel powerful. Well, I'm a Black woman slapping a Black man's face with my strap-on dildo because it feels me feel powerful. Take that, my macho brothers! I decided we had enough fun and games and got ready to fuck Jean-Richard in the ass. I put my favourite big Black man on all fours, face down and ass up. Then I spread his hairy ass cheeks wide open. I smeared lube all over his asshole, then sank a gloved finger inside. I shoved two fingers inside Jean-Richard's well-lubricated asshole and twisted them around. My sexy big man groaned. I smiled and smacked his ass. He hadn't seen anything yet. I pressed my dildo against Jean-Richard's asshole. Slowly but firmly, I began pushing it inside. I licked my lips as I fucked my man in the ass. I can't tell you how excited I was, folks. My pussy was literally dripping with hot girly cum. Unfortunately I couldn't finger myself. Too busy holding onto Jean-Richard's hips as I sank the dildo deeper inside of him. I wonder if I'm the only Black woman who enjoys fucking big Black men in the ass with her strap-on dildo. I've been at it since my days in the Republic of Haiti, where macho big Black men abound. I heard Jean-Richard's groans of pain mixed with pleasure. I squeezed his balls while I shoved the dildo deeper inside of him. His screams changed in tone. He practically squealed now. Laughing, I berated him while drilling the strap-on dildo up his ass. It's what he deserves for having such a nice ass. I wanted to bend Jean-Richard over and butt-fuck him with my dildo ever since I first laid eyes on him at Saint Laurent Mall in the City of Ottawa. And so the session went. I filled Jean-Richard's ass with my strap-on dildo, packing my man's booty with my hard plastic cock. This new dildo I've got is really life-like. It's also modeled after Jean-Richard's dick. I had it specially made. I wanted to know if a Black man can take something exactly the size of his dick up his ass. Looks like I was right. I worked that dildo right up Jean-Richard's butt, and he squealed like a little bitch. I love making big and tall, macho-looking Black men like Jean-Richard squeal as I pound their asses with my strap-on dildo. I made Jean-Richard tell me he loved getting butt-fucked. I think he said it so loud the neighbours heard him. Who cares? I'm freaky and I don't hide it. After ramming Jean-Richard's ass mercilessly with my strap-on dildo, I made him suck it clean. With tongue and everything. I think I know what you're thinking at this point! I'm not good I'm the best! I'm the master of Black female on Black male domination. Much later, Jean-Richard fell asleep in my arms. I swear to God I saw tears in his eyes as I pulled my strap-on dildo out of his ass. My favourite Black stud thanked me profusely. I hugged him tenderly. That's what a good Black woman like myself is there for. To pound macho Black guys like Jean-Richard into submission with my strap-on dildo until they scream for their mommies. Do I sound cruel? That's okay because I am a cruel bitch. I love to mercilessly beat my man's ass with a paddle, belt him, smack him around, spit on him, call him names and even bite him. And I love drilling his ass with my dildos. I'm going to stretch his asshole to accommodate dildos the size of my fist. It's going to take a while but we'll get there. In his sleep Jean-Richard murmured that he loved me. A flood of warmth filled my heart. I whispered to my sleeping fiancé that I loved him too. That's why I'm buying a twelve-inch dildo and a ton of lube tomorrow. It's what he deserves. And it's what I want to put in him. Because I love my man and I want to make him happy. Getting sodomized by his gorgeous Haitian fiancée's strap-on dildo makes this Black stud happy. Go figure. It guess it takes all kinds, right?